


Riko Slyver Book Three - The Secret of the Komainu

by lupin5th



Series: The Untouchables: School Years [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Book 3: Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Gen, Harry is still Harry, Ron is still Ron, a few other students start in 91, also: Slytherin does not equal Evil, if you keep in mind the books are Harrys pov und thus a subjective view, most people are still their selves I´d say, nor is any other house Evil, only not exactly Book 3 - OC viewpoints and all that, people being people - this is usually how things happen, so the focus is not Voldy and his opposition, sort of canon compliant up to the end of book 3, subjectivity is a thing to be aware of, yes - this is written from a subjective view too, yes this is
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2018-11-04 10:44:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 176,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10989312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lupin5th/pseuds/lupin5th
Summary: The previous school year was stressfull for the Untouchables, but not only are the summer holidays already a trial in and of themselves, the start of their third year lets the troubles of an ominous monster attacking castle residents seem mild in comparison.A lycanthrophic teacher appears, making Edie’s protection more important than ever; the entire populace of the school goes increasingly mad - which certainly has nothing to do with the siege of dementors round the castle, thanks to some moronic mad murderer out to do in Amy’s more suicidal numbskull mane; Riko officially goes off the deep end - or maybe she was living there already the entire time, depending on who you ask..in short: everything is awful when there are already too many stressors and then that worst of all villains - bad communication - rears its ugly head.Secrets grow, this is their worst aspect, and the fallout depends on all sorts of factors.. but secrets can also be useful, even necessary, and navigating that maze is hard - good thing they are each so brilliant, seeing how clearly the others are going to need their help to come to their senses...(aka: different povs in here)





	1. Holiday Letters

**Author's Note:**

> As stated in the summary, starting with this year I will attempt to provide povs for all Untouchables. Seeing how each of them has her own troubles and problems, it would seem remiss to only let Riko do the talking and presenting of what goes on - not to mention the fun and insights we might miss! But, really, they are all of equal importance, both to me and to their stories, and I can only hope I don’t fuck it up too badly.  
> I already had rather extreme lags in updating with book two, and i suspect it might even get worse here. The book is written, but there was no actual complete editing process yet - I will be doing this before each post of a chapter.  
> Also, I am hoping to at least start with book 4, which I wanted to do last year round this time, ahaha, but rl intervened and here´s me hoping that if I do my editing for year3 on here I might have more brainspace to work on actually writing out the mess of year4-content I have in my head. I still don’t know if the occurring divorce from the cover of canon in year4 will be helpful in that regard or not... eh.. we shall see =)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The summer holidays start differently for different people, but its all in what you’re used to, and nothing they can’t handle, after all.

When she spotted her parents in the muggle.. in the normal area between the platforms at King’s Cross, Amy, or rather Hermione, felt suddenly oddly nervous. But it was just a moment, then she resolutely shook herself and confidently hurried over.

If she was distractedly shoving at her hair, and also shoving away thoughts on the disparate goodbyes of her different friends, of Harry’s desolate parting words, well, not the time or place to dwell on it. And if she was sort of glad they only noticed her when she was already halfway over, what off it? They both smiled and exclaimed their joy at seeing her, and they did look happy.

It made it easier to be happy to be back here, back home. Not that this was generally hard, not at all, it was just strange, a bit. Something to adjust to again, was all. She was only too glad to show them the three books Seamus’ father had just signed for her, almost guiltily so, what with him being a Muggle, too. It was nice to be able to really, seriously recommend the books.

Hermione was pretty sure her parents would enjoy them, even if the author weren’t the father of her house mate, and the stories actually true. Unlike Lockhart’s, and the thought still bothered her. Especially because she had the feeling there was something missing there, something that Riko knew but kept silent about. But that was, again, not a matter for here and now, a fact underlined by her father’s voice making her jerk her head up, out of her messy thoughts.

“Hermione, dear, that’s really great but you might want to put them away for now, hm?”

“And let me take your trunk, hm, ah, you said it was a little bigger, you’ll have to show us at home how you put your old one in. I still think its a bit of an odd gift but well. No, dear, you were too enthusiastic with the stones in the garden, that’s what you get for it.”

“Alright, alright,” Dad smiled easily, holding his hands up in surrender at Mom’s protective scolding.

Hermione grinned and nodded, quickly checking they weren’t being watched before opening the trunk to put the books inside. Her parents had evidently both looked over her shoulder as she did, and huffed a laugh after exchanging a short “paint it blue, hm?” “what kind of paint, though?”

She was still quite tired, despite having spent most of the day sleeping on the train, but Hermione buried that, too, when her parents told her of the plan to go to her favourite restaurant, the Sano. “To celebrate having you back.. and the holidays of course,” they said. It was sweet of them, really, and they obviously were happy to go there, too.

Hermione was glad she had only spent a few weeks being petrified; she hadn’t even interrupted her customary start-of-the-month letters with it. But even so she felt a sort of tense, well, defensiveness settling in her, as she talked to her parents over the truly delicious food. She should get Riko to this place some time, she’d like it. Too bad it hadn’t worked out last summer, but this year..

Anyway, she knew they didn’t mean anything by it, but all their questions were not helping her settle and relax. Admittedly, it was probably because she had to be so careful of what she told, but not only. There were some questions that didn’t ease her mind at all, about her usually decidedly unrealistic fear of not being allowed back to Hogwarts.

“So, you’d said in your last letter the exams were cancelled, what’s with that? It’s just, we thought there’d be a, well, a letter from the school, but it seems they never got round to it, and then we just thought, well, we could just wait for you to be back and tell us about it?”

That was Mom for you, always exact in her words, not mentioning owls here in the restaurant and specifying the question so it was really really clear what she wanted to know. Admittedly, Hermione did it often enough, herself, but to be on the receiving end was just different. And really, the buried scepticism, the unspoken implication that a normal school would have sent a letter.. not a reassuring thing, especially given the context of all that had happened. Sigh.

“It was really an administrative thing, like I told you, there wasn’t much more to it. It was just, y’know,” Hermione sighed and gestured vaguely as if to chase her unease away. It reminded her of Riko’s habits and that helped. She’d just handle it. She was good enough at this to talk to a damn Roc, she could bloody well handle her parents!

“It’s a really big castle and all, and some supposed monster had snuck into the dungeons, and it didn’t really hurt anyone of course, but then the teachers had to comb the entire dungeons, which go on like you wouldn’t believe, and keep patrolling and all, and we still have all our grades that we made over the year and get to pass with those, and the people that had a degree-year, y’know, OWLs and NEWTs, got to take their exams of course, so it’s really not a problem, see?”

And this, this had been the reason she’d wanted to take the exams. Well, one of the reasons. She really wanted to show that even being petrified wouldn’t put her down, and that she had really understood it all and, ugh. Just ugh, and bloody feckin damn it all. And now she was cussing like Riko, damnit. If her parents could hear her thoughts now..

Something of her thoughts, or at least mood, must have showed on her face, because Dad made his usual calming hand wave and smiled consolingly.

“Well, that’s of course understandable, Hermione. We had just expected to hear from the school, and got rather curious when we didn’t. Say, what sort of supposed monster did it turn out to be? It must’ve been quite something to have all the teachers so worried..”

Oh ye freaking gods and Loki in a bloody hoop skirt, it was like sitting across Edie only Edie was suddenly the good cop and you were the unreasonable delinquent or something. And dang and goodness she had to start at least semi-cussing like a normal person, damn it.

Hermione took another spoon of her green tea ice to buy some time, and a deep breath, too, to let out some of her tension. It was a bad subject, yes, for so many reasons she couldn’t talk about at all here, but it was a settled matter, and she had to handle the here and now, pronto!

“Yeah, sorry, I dunno why they didn’t send letters, I imagine it’s because the students take their grades along anyway. And it turned out it was a really big snake and it, well, I wasn’t there of course, but it seems it had to be put down. So of course Riko got all upset about it and, well, it was just not a very good end of term thing, y’know.”

Apparently her parents didn’t know, though, only looking at her as if expecting a better explanation and, well, alright, she would, too. They weren’t going to get one, though. Damn, she really shouldn’t have mentioned Riko, probably. Why was this so hard, suddenly?

“It wasn’t really that bad,” Amy lied determinedly, taking great care to not jut out her jaw out like she usually would and mentally thanked Riko for informing her of the tell.

“We just got up to some exploring instead, far easier than usual, what with the teachers all down in the dungeons, so it was alright, really. We found a few, well, a whole lot of really great hidden rooms and passages that go through the architecture like.. like some Escher-design, really, it was brilliant, and I know I wrote you about it but still, next year we get to take electives and I signed up for all of them because they all sounded so interesting, I’ll show you my notes on them and there’s even one called Muggle Studies, which I think is going to be really fascinating because it’ll show their views on normal people, like reverse anthropology or something, and I have.. oh, yes, I brought you lots of notes because we did a sort of project on the architecture and history of Hogwarts, I mean the girls and me of course, and it’s really brilliant. Well, for a castle in the high north with architecture that makes no sense, but I mean, I thought you might like it, perhaps, it has lots of things that aren’t in Hogwarts a History at all, or not anymore I guess..”

It was an unfair play, alright, Hermione admitted it, playing on them wanting to reconnect, again, just like last year. Only it had been so much easier back then. But she wanted some bloody peace, please, thank you very much, on her first evening back!

It was Sunday tomorrow, they could just as well grill her over breakfast, and really all day afterwards. And maybe, not that she was going to admit that, ever, but maybe they actually weren’t interested. It wasn’t like they’d ever get to visit Hogwarts and see any of the things she showed and told them about.. Had they ever really read in Hogwarts a History without her prodding? Somehow she suddenly wasn’t sure at all of any memories regarding it. This was so stupid!

“Well, that sounds really interesting, you can show us tomorrow over breakfast, if you like?” Mom said resolutely after a moments pause that had let a rather tense silence settle over the table. “Now, why don’t you tell us some of your highlights of the year and then we’ll trade you what’s been going on here?”

For all that it wasn’t so much suggestions as decrees, it made Hermione feel much better immediately. It was easy to pick a few lessons and some minor stories, like about Nick and the Headless Polo, that she hardly had to modify and hadn’t detailed to much in her letters, and the rest of the evening was really nice.

It was pretty late when Hermione finally wandered into her old room in a set of old pyjamas, ready to crawl into her old bed, which really wasn’t small, just smaller than her bed at Hogwarts. It was still odd. She’d unpack her things tomorrow, that had helped last year.

She hadn’t switched on the light because she really just wanted to sleep, and maybe also because she just honestly had gotten out of the habit. It was a stupid thought to have when suddenly something in your room rustled, but there it was, especially with her wand in her trunk.

But then she recognized the sound, feathers, and it seemed all the sneaking around in the night had trained her dark vision at least a little. The distinct caw of Korra let Amy relax even more, and now she could make out the form of the raven on a rectangle, a parcel?

It turned out to be a book, a pretty big and thick one to have been brought by one bird. But even as she took it, a folded parchment slid off the wrapped book and landed on her bed. Calling up a small whisp, Amy quickly picked it up, just this side of worried now.

Surely Riko couldn’t have gotten into some horrible trouble already? Well, yes, she could, but surely she hadn’t. She’d told them her plans and there seemed little possibility for imminent disaster. Except the part where she was at the Malfoys, but.. ugh.. Resolutely shaking her head, she quickly read through it.

 

 _Hey there Amy,_  
  
_don’t be mad but this here is your birthday present, or at least part of it, just a little early. I just thought with all the stupid old books in Latin we had all year and all the new subjects next year and the good chances of us keeping on digging through musty old tomes this might come in handy._  
  
_You’ve been going on about it, once or twice ^_~ and I got the version that has notes on archaic and vulgar Latin, too, so I hope you can forgive me getting you a book. I said it’s just part right? Have a good time and give my best to your parents, seriously, please do. ~~I really like them, not like Edie’s admittedly, but they’re really the coolest they can be while still being dentists, I think, and I don’t mean that badly at all, really.~~_  
  
_Anyway, sorry but I thought it’d be a nice surprise and I hope the school owls managed to get this into your room somehow, I told them to follow Korra, but well. Korra will wait for an answer, if you like, or if you just really want your peace you can tell her, too. Just please don’t make her carry the book to me even if you don’t like it. You can hurl it at my head when we next meet, if you like ^_^_  
  
_Bye and Be Well and all that,_  
  
_Riko_

 

And that, right there, was why Amy sometimes really despaired of her friend. If she’d been here, face to face, Amy would have been completely clear on what Riko meant. Written down, though, it was so much harder to gauge just how ironic or serious or both she’d meant this or that, especially with the state she’d been in, after the basilisk and all. Judging from the middling hasty scrawl, though, probably mostly normal.

“Well, that was really good of you, to show the owls the way,” Amy said to Korra with a sigh, because Riko being her odd self was no reason to be rude to her raven. “Thanks,” she reiterated, to be sure. “Was the window already open or did you have to trick around with it?”

The look she got for that was tolerant if a little disappointed and, yes, asking an or-question was not the smartest way, here. It seemed to happen a lot between the two of them. Amy often felt like the bird thought she wasn’t being as smart as she could be. It was odd and less uncomfortable than she would have expected if she thought about such things. Korra cawed once, pointedly looking around, and Amy took it to mean the window had been open. The other would probably be two caws.

“Right, good then. It would be great if you could wait. Do you want a snack? I could get you a.. well, some cheese?”

And there it was again, that tolerant look, even if it was quite friendly when Korra tilted her head like that. Well, Amy didn’t have any of the special treats Riko had for her bird, and she had seen Korra pick contentedly on cheese before, and her parents liked cheese so it was safe to say there’d be some downstairs in the freezer. Honestly.

“Hermione? Are you already in.. oh!”

And that was her Dad. Probably come to be a Good Dad and offer an ear, and here she was, glowing whisp by her shoulder and talking to a raven sitting on her bed. She could feel her face heating up, even though she hadn’t even done anything forbidden.

“I see you got a letter already.. did you forget a book or something?”

Amy really loved her Dad. Yes, she had explained about wand-magic versus little tricks last year, but for him to smile like that and not mention it at all.. he really was the best. Korra gave a small croak that sounded like someone uncomfortably clearing their throat and left.

“Oh, I didn’t scare her off, did I?”

Now he sounded unsure and that made Amy feel really bad; it was just wrong that she make her Dad, who had patiently explained so much to her, who had just like Mom in fact so often answered the question she meant instead of the one she asked, sound like that.

“Oh, no, not at all. She’s just being polite, she’ll just wait until I er.. kill the light,” Amy winced at the lack of switched on lights as she said it.

Dad, good soul that he was, just smiled and switched on the light, and she used the chance to quickly put both the still-wrapped book and the letter on her desk and wriggle into the bed, freshly made and with her favourite green sheets, too.

Hermione switched on her night-light and remained sitting. She wasn’t disappointed in her expectations when her Dad switched off the big light and took a seat on her bedside. It was nice, because it was what she knew he’d do, and also because, well, she was home now, right?

“Er, I didn’t forget a book, I think, that was a surprise from Riko, the silly bird,” Amy smiled despite herself. It felt good to be able to tell things without having to worry about it, even if she still had to leave out things. At least they weren’t big things.

“It’s a book on Latin, because we ran into so much of it over the year and she thought I might like it and the others already know it and I was always annoyed I didn’t. And she said I could chuck it at her head if I didn’t like it, just not to send it back with Korra. Oh, and to give you all the best from her, she said, seriously..”

She’d only mentioned the chucking to make sure her Dad wouldn’t think she was only going to learn it because her friends wanted her to, but when she finished, Amy couldn’t stop herself from winking at him. ‘Seriously’ was one of Riko’s favourite fun words, and while she was here last year her parents had joined the silliness unashamedly.

“Well, that’s nice of her, seriously,” he now grinned back at her with a wink, “send her my best, too, when you answer.. you can invite her again, if you like, you know, Mom and I don’t mind..”

“That’s great, thanks Dad, I’ll write it both to her,” Hermione smiled and tugged on her hair, thought of last year, after Riko had stayed with them and the talk that had come from that. She could never tell her friend about that, ever, or they would both die of embarrassment.

Asking if Riko was in trouble, if Hermione thought she was safe with her family, honestly! But here he was, her Dad, having got over that weird idea just fine and inviting her like it was no big deal. She was really proud of him, and glad to set him at ease, too.

“She said she’ll stay with some distant relations until 5th or so, and then meet up with her family, and afterwards it’ll depend on how much more of extended family shows up and wants to, y’know, catch up and all that stuff we don’t have to worry about.”

Even leaving out the Malfoy part, Amy was glad her family was so tidy and, well, concise in comparison. It sounded tiresome, to have a mess of oddly removed people who might always up and want some part of your time just because of some accident of birth.

Her Dad gave her a smile for it, too, if only a small one. “Are you really alright, dear? You seemed a bit ..preoccupied today.. and exhausted, too..”  
  
And now she was back to tugging her hair, but without the smiling. She didn’t feel like that at all, more like a giant weight was sitting on her chest. And of course she had to say something now, or else he’d just keep on worrying and that was just not acceptable. In that she really was just like the girls, it was nice if people cared for you, but to have them worry, that was just the worst, just unacceptable. Beside the practical fact, which was that this was her chance to close the subject and avoid putting Mom on her case, too.

“I.. yes, I just.. well, I’m just really tired, with all the exploring we did we sort of didn’t sleep that much. We didn’t have exams after all, and they didn’t do anything new in the lessons, and, well, you know, we just wanted to make the most of it..”

Dad nodded tolerantly, fondness and exasperation mixing on his face, but he kept on watching her. And yes, Amy definitely got why Riko had said he was like a mix of Edie and her Grandpa Gara. The first was clear enough, and she really wanted to meet that Gara someday.

“Last year I said.. I said I knew what I wanted to become, right?”

“Yes, you did.”

“Well, I don’t want to, that, anymore. And I.. I don’t really know what I want instead and..”

Amy broke off then, because she was not going to bring up her worries about her friends. It would do neither Harry nor Vi nor anyone any good. It would only worry her Dad and possibly even make her parents rethink sending her back to Hogwarts next year.

“Oh my little genie, that’s not really that terrible. You’re all of thirteen and you’re smart as anything. You’ll figure it out with plenty time to spare..”

“But, I mean, it’s just.. I thought you really liked the idea, and it would’ve.. I would’ve learned muggle.. normal medicine, too, and..”

“Oh.. oh genie, come on, really! Didn’t we mock the Barnings enough that you got we think they’re off their rocker? You’ll learn and do what you like, and we’ll be your parents completely regardless of it. Just make sure it’s what you really want, but I trust you there. You’ve got solid sense, y’know.”

Amy smiled back at his wink and then quickly looked down again. Her face was so hot, her entire head was probably burnt-brick-red, at sun-down.

“So, what made you reconsider? You sounded very convincing last year, so I’m a bit curious.. you didn’t have any nasty things said to you or anything like that, right? Because that sort of thing..”

“Ah, no, Dad, no, that’s not it at all,” Amy hastily shook her head, seeing her worry grow as she realized he had kept the matter with Mr. Malfoy very much in mind. Of course she’d never get the whole discrimination idea out of his head, or Mom’s either. Shit.

“No, it’s just.. when you get down to it, you only get to try and help when things are already bad, when it went wrong already, you know? And I don’t want that, I want to stop bad things from happening. And I.. don’t really think I have the temperament for it, either, y’know..”

“What makes you say that?” Dad asked and, goodness, she was very uncomfortably aware of all the answers she really didn’t want to give to that open sort of question. But better than her Mom, whose question would’ve left no leeway to pretend honesty to herself.

“Well.. I sort of was there, this year, in the situation, and it was.. I mean, it wasn’t really bad, we were out exploring and Riko overdid it and had a bit of a tumble and it was just a broken arm, Madam Pomfrey healed it real quick, but I was all.. I went all crazy and practically steamrolled her, just be glad you weren’t there, it wasn’t pretty, thousand questions and poking not pretty, I guess I should be glad she didn’t puke on me from shock..”

“Oh, come now, I don’t think you could make Riko puke if you tried to, dear, she’s a hardy one, hm? All in what you’re used to, you said it yourself, remember?”

And what sort of comment was that last part, now? Here she’d thought he was over thinking Riko strange and then he said something like that, and he did look a bit curious under his reassuring, friendly smile! She’d always thought he’d be a Ravenclaw and there he went all Slytherin..

“Well, she’s not used to breaking her arm,” Amy said with honest exasperation and defensive over his acting like Edie on a trail; distraction was clearly called for, “.. and you didn’t see her, all thrown, and she was still nice about it, but.. and anyone else.. and I thought about it, later, and I don’t think I could stop myself from acting like that, ever, alright, I’d never manage to be all .. like Madam Pomfrey.. or.. or you or Mom..”

Later, as she was staring at her ceiling, Korra a black blob in the dark, head under her wing as she perched on the lamp by the desk, Hermione wasn’t sure if she should be proud of herself or cry. Or perhaps be disgusted at herself. In the end she resolutely settled on none of those, choosing rational thought and trying to rest. There was enough whirling in her head on the matter she had talked about with Dad, or started to talk about.

She did know more about the society she was going to belong to, after this awful second year, but it only meant she knew less about what she’d want to do for a living. If you weren’t from an established family you had to rely on connections, and while the ministry was the biggest employer it was also the most lousy with nepotism. And what would she even do for this so-called government, considering what she knew of its policies and how it was run. Not to mention the question was entirely moot without sufficient backing from relevant players – which were apparently about as likely to back her in anything she really would want to do as set their own robes and base of power on fire – which admittedly amounted to almost the same..

It was enough of a maze to lose her mind in, even without factoring in her friends – both sets. Ron was pretty safe, she thought, despite his apparent disinterest in the matter. His father already worked for the ministry, after all, he had an in there, and he had enough brothers to introduce him around. And Harry, well, beside his name, which would give him an in almost everywhere he wanted, could play quidditch like a champion already, and could apparently afford to settle for independently wealthy anyway, if he so wished – well, and managed to keep surviving Voldemort. Which she would make sure of, but that had after all nothing to do with the question at hand..

Vi kept quiet on the matter, but she had after all told them, back during that explanation of her bullies in first year, that she was the family heir. She didn’t ‘appreciate it’, she’d said, mocking her cousins’ greed and ego, but she’d never given any indication of intending to jump that ship. Which was really a train of thought best left alone. Edie hadn’t said much, but even if she wouldn’t take over her parent’s clinic, she’d surely find somewhere harmless that sufficiently snagged her curiosity, some scholarly do, her grades were up for it and she had connections too. And she could after all keep living home, might even be better off like that, with her monthly satellite states. If Riko didn’t manage to recruit her for travelling the world, that was, which was admittedly a tempting idea, in an adventure-book, fantasy-world kind-of-way.

It sounded entirely too fun to be true, but Riko had, repeatedly and reliably, made the sort of mentions-and-references to it that seemed in fun but were really Riko making you friendly to an idea she fully intended to realize. Which meant it was a thing to treat as realistic, even if seemed absurd, which was.. its own maze, wasn’t it.

Making a friend a boss – Riko would say partner, would _make_ them so, but Amy could bring nothing but herself into the deal – and it still seemed unrealistic; she still knew so little, even with all she read, about the entire hidden world of magic, all the different countries and lost places and cultures. And it wouldn’t do anything to fix the stinking heap of corruption and oppression in this, her own, magical country. Only, to do anything about that you’d need backing and strings, and there she was, back in the old new maze again..

She could only hope Dad hadn’t somehow, magically, caught any of that, but she felt fairly confident. Even with Malfoy’s spiel, there was no reason to think her parents had any of the context even she was only seeing the edges of, and it made perfect sense, didn’t it, that a thirteen-year-old wasn’t sure what path in life to chose, and she hadn’t lied. She hadn’t, and she hadn’t play-acted either, and she certainly hadn’t planned it out before or anything. It wasn’t like that, she wasn’t playing her parents. She had meant everything she’d said, and she’d been ever so glad for her Dad’s calm, steady answer, for his tucking her in, and for everything really.

So what if he was now going to talk to Mom and they’d be all rational and good about everything, and they’d all go on reconnecting until it was September again, until she’d get to learn and use her magic, or rather her wand, again. They’d again help her get all the right books her muggle year mates would have used last year and gently scold her when they felt she overdid it but be really pleased she still wanted to learn all these normal things. And she did, after all, want to know _all the things_. Facts were facts, and it was just fascinating what side of the fence knew and interpreted what how, and knowing both sides gave you so much opportunity, and she did like to be able to really teach the other girls something, too. Not useless, her, which, even if they apparently never thought so anyway, did matter, if only in her own head. So what if she was also already thinking on how to best answer Riko’s letter, on how to manage some careful invitations between her and Edie and Riko. Besides, it was the thing to do, really. Keep her parents from worrying.

Because she knew they’d never really stop her from going back, from learning what she loved so much, but they would worry ever so much. She could tell them later, when she was old enough. It’d be like their tales of harrowing clashes with police brutality while her Mom was still a student and already in the front row of any social cause worth half a penny. They’d all laugh about it over tea in just a few years.

*

On the day before the full moon, Riko was sitting in the Malfoy family library, twiddling her glass quill, so uneasy she hadn’t even opened her ink yet.

This was not to do with the library, shadowy and dusty and enticingly creepy as it was, nor was the assured knowledge of all the officially Dark and most certainly dangerous books around her the reason for her current unease. It was, admittedly, a lot of things, but the biggest factor right now was the date. In the coming night Edie, her good friend, practically adopted as family, would turn into a slavering, mostly mindless berseker-angry wolf. Said wolf would then proceed to rampage in whatever cellar she was locked up in, at best hurting itself on accident but really more likely claw and chew angrily on itself.

And there was nothing Riko could do about it. (Just like.. No. Stop.)

Usually, well, at Hogwarts, she and her friends would be close by, doing their best to distract the wolf with little cantrips and tricks, and they were by now quite experienced at it. But right now, Edie, who insisted her parents never learn of her secret being out, was home, Amy and Vi were stuck with their families, and Riko at the Malfoys for another two days. Completely uselessly stuck, because as much as she wished for it to be different, she rather doubted she’d suddenly find exactly what she was looking for. Not to mention she still had to write the letter Edie should receive tomorrow, to have something to read during recuperating. Not that she could currently even decide which of the two she better start on first, heck she wasn’t even sure if she wanted time to move faster or slower. Not that she could do either, but it might help her decide.. go for the research, hope for a hit instead of a miss, or start the letter now, despite her empty head..?

With an exasperated sigh, Riko only barely restrained herself from throwing the quill down in a huff, instead poking the messy stacks of potentially helpful books. It wasn’t that it was bad, as such, to be stuck here, but even if it wasn’t for the date, she’d be glad to leave on Monday. She was sleeping much better than last year, when she’d been unable to go a night without waking in a cold sweat, but the mood of the Lord of the manor, her spellfather, was nowhere near as smug and relaxed as last year, and it was very noticeable even when he wasn’t around.

There had been visits, mostly Vingory and Tony, and with only Lady Narcissa of a mind to be the respectable, pleasant part of company it had lead to some interesting stories of her and also Professor Snape’s school days, educational and fun, but the overall mood in the Manor remained. And small wonder. Her own mood, though stable and focused on her new project, was not exactly stellar, after the mess that had been second year. It was admittedly for different reasons, but the effect was the same, and as was often the case, cause mattered little in view of effect.

Which was a good thing, because if she were to think too closely on it Riko could very easily trace this years troubles, or at least half of them, to Lord Malfoy. But then, his own, such as losing his seat as governor on the school board, had the same cause, so he at least had that to stew on. Served him right, seriously, trying to set up Ginny Weasley, a first year, with a Dark artefact just to harm her father’s political goals. Even if, on proper application of thought, the proposed laws weren’t without some problems. And then not even doing it right!

Riko rather doubted Lord Malfoy had been aware a part of Voldemort’s spirit had been imbued in the damn diary. There were of course ample rumours about the Malfoys having been big supporters of the “Dark Lord” during the civil war nobody wanted to mention in any way at all. It had been in the seventies, until Harry Potter, the boy who lived, had miraculously saved everyone by supposedly rebounding the killing curse on Voldemort as a little baby. And admittedly, from what little she knew, Riko supposed there was reason for that rumour, even if she thought it rubbish.

Lord Malfoy was definitely a dangerous man, and he was very much a pureblood ..believer or however you wanted to call people who despised everything to do with muggles. But on the other hand, from the very negative way he had reacted to any mention even vaguely to do with Voldemort, she thought his defence of having been forced into the service of that madman rather realistic.

Riko had met the spirit of Voldemort, end of her first year; he’d tried to kill her and seemed rather unhinged, too. She had a hard time imagining the very sharp and proud Lord Malfoy working for that creep, never mind calling him his lord. Even if they both believed muggles were for shit, it just didn’t really fit. Not to mention Lady Narcissa would certainly not have agreed. The Lady of the manor was of course from a famous old family, the Blacks, and very proud and regal in her heritage, but even with her clear preference for the wizarding side of the world, and those that were not gauche or other kinds of unpleasant, or maybe even _because_ of her distaste of such unpleasantness, she’d never go with that kind of messy fanaticism..

“There you are! Merlin, I should’ve known I’d find you here. Honestly, are you trying to hide or is this just some weird fixation..?”

Riko did very pointedly not jump, but she knew her sudden freezing had been noted. Draco could sometimes be not exactly observant, but judging from his smug look this was not one of those times. She couldn’t even roll her eyes, after his admirable conduct over breakfast. He’d been all but whining about Riko’s stubborn tendency to drift away from whatever he wanted to do to her obscure research in the library, going on about how she was starting to act like.. and Riko had known exactly who he’d meant to reference then, and how he’d do it, too.

Or at least she’d thought so. But while she’d already been giving him her best unimpressed look of we-are-not-amused, he’d actually turned it around, with nary a pause, to a generic “dust-covered Ravenclaw” sort of thing and, wow, that was really impressive, considering. After all, he’d publicly called Amy a mudblood before, and he still couldn’t stand her because she was always getting better grades and hanging out with Harry Potter, his supposed personal nemesis.

They’d been thoroughly on the outs over it last year, for months, and even afterwards there had been moments when Riko just wanted to deck him one. And now look at him, practising his skills of smug slouching in the chair one over, far too proud and aware of the small favour of politeness he’d given. Fuck it. She really didn’t know how she tolerated him and his superior airs; as if it was an accomplishment, being born the Malfoy heir. Not to mention the oblique interest she’d seen in Lord Malfoy’s face as he politely ignored their squabble.

“Well, I still haven’t found what I’m looking for,” she smirked drily, “so of the two it’s clearly fixation, if you really want to call it that.”

Then she sighed, trying to contain her annoyance, including the fresh stab at realizing there was absolutely no way he’d catch onto the lyric. She thought her voice was neutral enough and the trick with Draco was to just ignore his supposed entitlement; he usually didn’t go beyond heavy implication.

“You could peaceably do your homework while I poke around here, like a good host, or heck, just sit there quietly and keep reading my Phantom Mountains..”

“Morgana’s tits, no thank you, I’m certainly not going to waste my time on homework, didn’t you see the weather? Besides, I already finished that book last time, an hour before you quit here, and I didn’t even mention it, being such a good host, you know..”

“Yeah, and also so that you could shove it in my face now. Gods and spirits, Draco, just.. what do you want in exchange.. hey! Do you mind?!”

“Oh come off it, I think I’m entitled to know what you’re noting down here in my family’s library.. sheesh, what gibberish is that even? There’s French in it..? and Latin? And what..”

“Give me that you twat!” Riko groused, sharply, because that really went too far.

Draco let go of the grabbed parchment, seemingly torn between sheepish and insisting on his supposed rights and curiosity. She hurriedly rolled it up with the others, even the empty one she’d meant to use for Edie’s letter, putting it down pointedly out of his reach but also resigned.

“I have a tendency to use whatever word or phrase seems most useful so it’s a bit of a mix. Doesn’t make it gibberish, and you should know what I’m researching, seeing how you’re usually sitting right there!”

“Well, I know what you say you’re researching but I don’t know what you really get from it! The basilisk, if it even really was one, is dead. Why research it now like it’s the next big thing?”

“Because it’s freaking fascinating! Did you know how many different sorts of basilisk exist? It’s not just that big snake thing, some are very small or more like dragons, and some have features of toads or birds, and anyway, I’m currently trying to find something on that mind-stuff..”

Riko gestured excitedly, meaning to distract Draco from his very unwelcome questioning. Loki’s lyrical flute, there was already enough stuff she couldn’t research here! For one, her goal of becoming an animagus was a thing she really didn’t want them, or anyone, to even suspect. Which was all the more annoying since she was fairly sure it was the subject she’d find the most on, here.

“It must be really damn obscure, so far I haven’t found anything more helpful than what your mother said. That was really cool, and grand of her to bring it up. Too bad it’s clearly more a Black-thing, if even that, and not a Malfoy thing at all, so of course there’s no proper books on it here..”

“Hmf, of course not. Why would she bother about some obscure books. She already knows all she wants about it and you heard her, it’s not like people are reading minds left and right.. it’s not even the reason she knows of it and that says something because..”

“Alright, alright, sheesh, keep your pants on, fucks sake. I wasn’t implying she should have taken any books here and it’s completely unsurprising she knows about it if it was a thing in her family, even if people reading minds is officially not a thing at all..”

“Well, keep that in mind then.. I still don’t get why you’re so hung up on this. I mean, you can’t really believe some weird corridor rumour that Dumbledore can read people’s minds. He’s barmy and that’s it..”

“Seriously, Draco, the fuck is wrong with you? Oh, there could be people able to read my thoughts, let’s just not worry about it? And his lack of official sanity has nothing to do with his skills, he is freaking ancient, he’s had time enough to learn it!”

“So what if he did, s’not like I’m gonna talk to him! And clearly you don’t have to be ancient to know about it, if you might recall my mother telling you over breakfast..”

“Oh, will you get over yourself! Your mother is great, alright, stop acting like I think she isn’t! And if you have to talk to him, because no matter how barmy he is he’s still the headmaster, not to mention the institution of being Dumbledore in and off himself, what are you going to do, just sit there mute with closed eyes?”

“That’s..” Draco gaped, actually seeming baffled for a moment and Riko crossed her arms and raised an irate eyebrow at him. He blinked and she could practically see him rearrange his thoughts.

“That’s absurd and beside the point,” he stated firmly after another moment of silence. His voice was even and controlled and Riko took a steadying breath through her noise to get back to that level. How had she got to almost exploding at him again, and in his own home? Argh..

“So, not that this isn’t fun, y’know, but what is really your problem? Was it that letter yesterday, after tea? You sent the reply off right away, didn’t you, so it can’t have been unexpected, whatever it was. You’ve been beyond grumpy since then, what’s going on?”

Riko stared. Draco didn’t even grin or smirk, he just looked.. neutral. Serious even. Like he really would like to know but also ready to back down if need be. Even with the mind-boggling, though by now adapted-to, change in, hm, care, or friendliness, since the end of last year: what the everloving bloody shit was this now..?

“Not that it’s any of your business, but no, neither of those letters put me in this mood. It’s a simple freaking grump, I sometimes get them, maybe it’s..”

“..just that time of the month?” smirked Draco, more distraction than teasing, clearly relieved.

It was a good thing she’d reverted to her normal mode for unwanted questions; dry, completely closed off deadpan. It helped immensely in not wincing or freezing at his words, even knowing full well he had absolutely no clue how absurdly, unwittingly close he was to the truth.

“Yeah, no, not a problem I’m having as yet, you twat,” she stalled, drawing her hand over her face and back through her hair, sighing. “Far more likely I’m just frustrated because I can’t find more decent info in your supposedly oh-so-great library, not to mention get a moment of peace to actually, y’know, read and research..”

“Or maybe your paranoia is finally catching up to you,” Draco grinned, cheerfully ignoring her insults to his family library and his behaviour as host just to poke one at her. Classic and almost nice.

“Sure, maybe it’s that,” Riko said resignedly, going so far as roll her eyes.

She also pushed her hands into her pockets and because it wasn’t paranoia when people were out to get you she activated her ninja-ping. She’d been doing it routinely, off and on, while researching, and usually there was nobody around except her and a resigned, restless Draco. There was someone around now. Just around the corner of the closest shelf, to be exact, well, as exact as it got in this damn library. Or rather in this sort of magical building, really. Not that she was past basic proficient with it, but usually it wasn’t quite as fuzzy.

None of which changed the fact they were being spied on. On Accident, surely, as a planned spying wouldn’t register at all, or rather not like this. No, this was clearly a case of Starting To Accidentally Overhear. And not stopping to overhear, of course, which gave approximately zero hint as to who in this family it might be. Just bloody fantastic, as if it wasn’t enough to be “perfectly alright” while in official company!

Draco was now using his best fake yawn and polite cough, clearly still intent on getting her to join him in the great outdoors. Suddenly this was exactly what Riko wanted, too. What a shocking twist.

“Alright,” she sighed, making sure to lace sufficient resignation into her voice, “let’s go outside and do something..”

“Break something, you mean,” Draco offered with a friendly anarchists leer, however he even managed to pull that off.

It was probably a context thing. Not to mention the way his stance relaxed after he, ah, after he’d avoided a theoretical explosion of tempers. Heh. Who would’ve thought it had impressed him that much, last year, and in a constructive way even, wow. Well, Vingory wasn’t here, lack of audience always helped in getting him to act more agreeable, and he _was_ Lady Narcissa’s son.

As if summoned by their talk of leaving, a house elf showed up in a subdued puff of smoke. Lyall, staying in his deep bow for a pointed moment, then a pointed longer to the heir of the house. He was pretty old and always reminded her of the library elves of the Main Library of Magic, what with how dried up and papery he looked and also how pleasantly dry and silent he tended to be.

“Will Miss Slyver like these for her perusal on her desk,” he said, not asked, and Riko grinned and used the chance to shove her hand out of sigh again and repeat the ninja ping. Yep, still being spied on. Fantastic.

“Yes, thank you, Lyall, I appreciate it,” she nodded at him and hastily turned to Draco to keep him from commenting on her supposedly overly friendly ways of talking to servants. Riko wasn’t going to tell her hosts how to treat their retainers, but she reserved the same right as guest. “Now what d’you really want from me when you showed up, hm?”

“Pft, you make me sound right terrible,” he drawled with a grin, tone and gestures so easygoing and innocent she was immediately and kindly forewarned. Well, and more on her guard than already, being spied on and all. “I was simply going to offer you a way to get rid of your temper with some good, relaxing casting,” he drawled, as if he was doing her a big favour indeed. It was eminently clear what he wanted, even before he clarified, “Y’know, that artillery spell of yours was rather fun..”

As if it was something that had just come to mind, a simple suggestion. While whoever else was listening in. Thank you ever so fucking much, Draco, she thought, then remembered it was mostly her as had brought up the spell in the first place and sighed, leaning back. Lyall chose that moment to finish his stacking and vanish everything to her room in a puff of smoke. It was a nice cover and helped her get into the game right.

“That’s ever so nice of you, really, but alas, how about the fuck no? I mean really, you do remember.. oh no wait, of course you do.. you just want me on my last leg for tomorrow’s Half Quidditch. Why, Draco, I feel almost honoured you’d think me that much of a threat in the game..”

“Pfyeah, right,” Draco made a face that looked much like that of his father if he’d be here to hear the undignified sound and language of his heir now, and Riko had to stop her amusement from creeping on her face. A haughty sniff told her she hadn’t managed it completely.

“About that, I still don’t know why I ever listened to you and invited Nott. I really don’t care for him and you can be sure he won’t be on my team. Stiff little know-it-all’s clearly not at home on a broom anyway..”

Riko rolled her eyes and heaved another great sigh at his snobbish description of her, well, former protégée. She wasn’t exactly best friends with Theo, but that was due to a both-way agreement. They preferred a stable sort of distant friendliness and respect between them.

“Oh, get over yourself, ’s not like I’m trying to set you up for an arranged marriage here so keep yer pants on. He’s good enough on a broom and has the right build for what we need. He’s also good to have around during the year, and I think you’ll regret pairing him with me tomorrow..”

She stood and gave him a twinkly grin full of teasing, well pleased by Draco’s inability to not immediately jump at the challenge. Haggling and bantering while they went outside was a good enough cover as far as conversation went, and it didn’t hurt that she managed to bet the first hundred inches of history of magic homework on tomorrow’s game. Knowing all involved parties, and Draco and Tony’s competitive and ..very sibling-like dynamic.. It would take some work, but she felt quite sure she and Theo could pull it off. Perhaps she could get him to bet something with Tony, too, to get it really going..

Just to pay him back today’s cooperation and courtesy Riko didn’t argue when Draco defaulted to Flying as soon as they got outside. She only held back a little on her crazy manoeuvring, and it certainly wasn’t so that he might be encouraged to underestimate her for tomorrow’s game, seriously, just letting him enjoy the game. So what if it also made him more agreeable to playing first darts and then train duelling down by the stables afterwards.

It was always satisfying to have something hit home, after all, and Draco knew loads of great spells and tricks, he did have an actual family tutor for it, and he also had fantastic hand-eye coordination. Riko could hardly believe he had never played darts before she badgered him about it, but then, it was probably not a proper thing to learn. It also lent itself more to conversation, which was a bit of a downside, but at least they were clear in the open so she didn’t have to worry as much about being “accidentally overheard“. Riko enjoyed a relaxed afternoon, and with Daco so much in love with the sound of his own voice also a quite informative one.

For one, Riko now knew for sure that if she ever got found out, a possibility that had come up more than once, she’d just take a hike and come back once she was of age. Well beyond the creepiness of Draco being all but engaged to Tony already, or the way his life was already all but planned out by his parents, was the way her housemate didn’t even seem to find it strange, thought it entirely normal, and it never helped to note how he was at least partly scared of his own father and-or his expectations. Not that he said, but, well.. she was just glad Lord Malfoy was easier on his spellchild and intended to keep that status.

It was sort of ironic that she couldn’t honestly say she envied any of her friends or acquaintances their currently-living parents, not even Edie. As nice, brilliant really, as her friend’s family was, the way Edie was always so careful, so aware of her condition even if they tried to treat her normal, it’d drive Riko mad. Perhaps once she told them all, Edie’d let them tell her parents. Riko didn’t like to think of it, of the potential fall-out, but she was going to tell them before next year for sure.

Obviously it never worked when they were at Hogwarts so she’d just have to do it before they got there, on the train if it came to that. But for now chances were good they’d all get to stay at Edie’s, and it’d be good a place to tell it, too. No matter the outcome. She didn’t really think they’d take it as bad as ratting her out, but if they did it’d be easy enough to get away. But, well, Riko was sure they wouldn’t. They wouldn’t be happy, though, and she really didn’t want to think about all the potential hurts that’d come from it, specially not here at Malfeasant, where she had other things to worry about, thank you very much.

Then Draco wanted to fly another round before dinner, and when they headed inside, windswept and slightly out of breath, she did feel better. The activity had helped settle her nerves. Handling Madam Malfoy during dinner was ironically helpful as well, unpleasant and taxing enough to occupy her mind, and Riko was never one to discard a useful distraction. She finished the letter for Edie before sleeping, and kept busy and focused, not a hard thing to do with the books on her desk and her plans. Tomorrow would, if handled with some care, be relaxed enough, and then, on the morning after she’d see if her planned extraction would work right.

According to Fhuuzhako the official port-key to Bordeaux was no problem and, well, Riko did have connections to reach her real goal from there safely. So what if said connection was again Fhuuzhako, all the better, really; Riko understood perfectly fine why her new project was better not discussed via letters, of any kind.

For now she just had to keep Cecile, her again-personal-maid house elf, out of her hair once she’d planned through what to extract from her trunk, and when, and also decide on temporarily or permanently, and work around the problem she still couldn’t shrink the massive trunk herself because it was too complex an item. Because even with it’s three bigger insides it was getting too full. Which was it’s own kind of surreal, seriously, to have more stuff than you could carry, especially with that trunk. Good thing she could leave stuff in her Da’s all access account, although she was going to get one of her own before he came back..

Anyway, Bordeaux’d be great: a new place, and some exercise in using her French, on actual French people, not her friends or current hosts. It was also a chance to take a look at the fashion there, and apply what Lady Narcissa had kindly offered in educational by-notes. Better not to offer any in for looking-down-on in her house, next year, by using her old clothes, even if they were still perfectly fine. And, far more interestingly, she could, of course, visit a decent bookshop and get the Lingua Loquendi for Japanese she hadn’t thought of last year. And also one for classical Greek. Vi had made a good point on it being used for loads of spells, never mind research and what-not. Of course working through one alone was admittedly not ideal, specially with her mahouki, but dead languages were better for it than life ones, she thought. Latin had worked well enough, way back before first year. Then she’d have to hurry to arrive in time at Gin-san’s to meet Uncle Kal and then.. well, she’d see if maybe Kumomaru and his folk were back, that would be really good, and if not..


	2. More Messages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How are the other two Untouchables doing as the holidays go on? Pretty well, it seems..

In the almost-three weeks of holidays until Lea returned, Edie was proud to have relaxed and rested considerably, after the mess of second year. She had proof, even; the moon on the night of July 4th was of course quite short, but still, she came out of it with nary a scratch, just the normal miserable pain and exhaustion of the transformation. The second charge of letters from her friends had arrived perfectly timed for that, too, to read slowly, and snort at Vi’s cartoons, to smile at Amy’s stream-train enthusiasm for her homework (wizard and self-decreed muggle stuff) and fondly roll her eyes at Riko’s vague but truly enthusiastic holiday plans. There was no apparent difference to the pleasant and relaxed ones from Saturday, which, although Edie did trust her friends, was nice.

Especially Riko was occasionally absurdly ruthless about not upsetting her pre-moon, just look at first year, end of, and Edie had worried considerably about and for her friend, end of this Hogwarts year, and doubtlessly with good reason. The mad fixation Riko had displayed after they’d found the dead guardian of her house would have been bad enough, and her creepy quiet, the forced, icy stillness, that had been a serious worry, too. And then she’d gone and more-or-less splintered apart, more-or-less in public. Even knowing what had actually went down didn’t help Edie much, even with the rumours done-with at last. That kind of upset didn’t just go away, after all, and she had no idea on how to help. But apparently Riko was sufficiently entertained, and looking forward to the rest of the holidays, and all-in-all in her usual cheerful spirits.

Edie was more worried about Vi, to be honest, but she was quite sure they could manage the invitation game so her friend could officially visit for a proper while, and not be on her last leg at the start of next year. Amy was very nearly a safe bet, and had been over a few times already, always just for the day but her family was far more restful after all and it’d be snug enough inviting Riko and Vi, once Lea was back. Edie was looking forward to it, a lot, curious for new stories but even more missing her older sister to an absurd degree.

She’d been fine all year at school, after all, and Kean was here, and Oma, and her parents.. but it just wasn’t the same, was the thing, without Lea around to bother, to show her pictures and get proper hints on improvement, to ask for music crystals or just new songs or tricks, or anything at all, really. As much older as she was, she was always so happy in her owns skin that Edie couldn’t recall a single time her sister had acted too old to show an interest in her or Kean, even when she had her grumps and times of no-interest-at-all.

Last summer they’d spent some days in France, after Lea left for her Tithe, and then it’d been all preparations, for visiting Uncle Jona and how best to invite her friends and all of that. This year, coming home had been a relief but also a distracted realization of a Lea-shaped hole all over the place. Edie found it everywhere: fooling around with Kean, on the meadows as much as by the pond; by and in the stables, greeting Polly and asking after Sina and Sarah, who were after all getting old even for ponies; trailing through the different groves and relearning them; playing with Fritz and teasing Goldie; taking Sam and Frodo for fetch and run-along; going by the sheep and goats, the latter still less twitchy around her than the former; playing with the chickens and weighting the bees; even curling up around a book out of the way or with Oma. They might visit Uncle Jona again, some time during July, as soon as Lea was back, but that was not the reason Edie was looking forward so much to the ninth.

When Lea at last appeared with the tell-tale crack of Apparition, Edie was deeply engrossed in a book on the mythology of serpents. This wasn’t to say it was a surprising arrival; they had been waiting for her the past hour or so, must’ve been a hold-up at the International Portkey Point. Not that it mattered, it wasn’t like they were in a hurry, and with the next sound that of a heavy bag hitting the ground, Edie was sufficiently reminded of the world around her. In no time at all she was being hugged back by her big sister, the first time in a year-and-day.

Lea laughed, and no wonder, what with her being hugged from all sides. Even Fritz was doing his equivalent, wrapping himself around her feet and purring as loud as a muggle motor. Everyone was talking over each other and laughing and it was a while before Lea was let go.

“Good to see you’re all doing so well,” she got out at last, grinning at them in that easygoing manner of hers, the one Edie envied her so often and had practised enough to get quite close to pulling off.

Lea was looking to be doing quite well herself, all tan and freckles and smiles, her sun-bleached hair a messy bob, like she just hadn’t bothered to cut it over the last year. Which was probably exactly what had happened.

“Circe’s circle, I’m glad to be back,” she declared, “Not that it wasn’t awesome, but I got a heap of things I want to do, I even made a list, Mama, Edie, be proud of me, yeah?”

Mama made a face that was equal parts exasperation and laughter and ruffled Lea’s hair. “Yeah, we’re so proud of you, dear, and glad you’re back, too. Now sit down and put that bag out of the way before someone runs over it. I hope you’re hungry..”

“Papa went all out at the butchers, and the barbecue’s been ready for ages,” Kean jumped in impatiently, “so, what did you bring us?”

Edie leaned back on the bench and fondly rolled her eyes. Typical, and of course he could pull it off, with his puppy dog expression. He was like Riko, it was just impossible to really pin any bad attention on him, even when he acted like the world was his gift basket.

Lea gave a tolerant laugh, of course she did, and rolled her eyes just like Edie, taking a seat beside her and giving her a light nudge with the elbow. They shared a look and when her sister tugged on her ponytail before turning to answer him, Edie felt warm and relaxed and pleased and a little sad at the same time. It was great to have Lea back.

It was nice of her sister to unobtrusively look her over and check how she was, even if the moon was almost a week ago. To be careful of her little sis but not make an issue of it. Her friends knew she was fine by then, but that was different. It had been a year and a day, after all. And it really was great to have Lea back. Together with Kean she could entertain the family for the entire evening, the entire rest of the vacation, leaving Edie to relax and watch and enjoy it all in peace.

Being back from Hogwarts, the sudden focus on her was always unnerving. At school she was just another student. People didn’t pay her much attention and she liked that, it made her feel safe. Of course her friends paid her a lot of attention, but they were her friends and they didn’t treat her any different without even thinking on it. She knew her family tried that too, but they did always have to think on it, and they could just never seem to forget it. The difference was just obvious, with Oma being a warm and steady predecessor of her friends while Papa tended to worry the most. Which was sort of understandable. He’d grown up with all the lessons on werewolves, after all, had to identify the body of the man that attacked his children, that killed his son. It wasn’t what you’d forget in a hurry, or ever. Edie understood that, alright, and she knew just how lucky she was, in so many different ways.

Still, it was easier to feel lucky and happy if you weren’t being observed so closely, easier by far to relax and enjoy the holidays, the warm sun and the pleasant breeze, the smells of the barbecue and the fresh tales from the faerie court, with her sister holding everyone’s attention.

Like now, with Lea listing all the things she’d brought with her; some wines and liqueurs you had a hard time getting here in the second world, and some ingredients, herbs and roots and such, that had the same problem, and a set of finely crafted wooden flutes, and different types of spider-silk by the yard, for sheets and maybe some dresses and...  
Edie was curious how she’d managed to afford it all. She knew Lea had saved a lot and taken it as things good for bartering, like small ingots of gold and silver, copper and titanium beads, gems and as many eyedroppers and tiny stoppered glass vials as she could carry, but still..  
For a moment she was equally curious just how much what Lea had brought back would make on the free market, as Vi would call it. Then Lea told them excitedly of all the new friends she’d made, and just how many favours and goods she’d got working with some musicians, and it was like listening to, hah, to a fairy tale.

Of course that couldn’t last for the rest of the evening. Edie knew her sister would want to hear everything she’d missed in her year and day of Tithe honours. Her parents always had a list of hilarious tales about various creatures and animals and their treatments and recuperation and their quirks and those of their humans and so on, but there was no escape of course, not with her being the only current Hogwarts student. And it wasn’t like Edie didn’t want to talk of her friends, not at all. It was just.. not as relaxed as listening, was all. But she knew she’d not get out of it, and she did want Lea to know how grand her friends were, so she was ready when well into the meal..

“So, Edie, favourite little sister of mine.. are you still hanging out with those three inconceivable girls? Not getting into trouble, are you?”

Lea gave her a wide grin and wink, mischief dancing in her eyes in a way that was very familiar, and also explained why she’d never made prefect. Especially in Ravenclaw. But Edie was used to it, even having missed Lea for a year; Riko was good training, just by being herself.

“Hm, yeah, sure,” she smiled blandly and reached for another piece of bread to eat with her salad, the picture of mentally elsewhere.

“Really! Do tell! Are they even trustworthy? Can I really just go up later and fall in bed, my room still all clean and ordered? I mean, I know I said to let her stay there last summer, but..”

Her doubtful tone and face was so overdone Edie wouldn’t have needed the waggling eyebrows and grin to know her sister was teasing, trying to get any reaction at all. She grinned back, toothily so, and laughed when Lea’s eyebrows actually went up for real.

“I’m sure you can, go up there that is,” she smirked, then Kean just had to snicker and Edie had to be the sane one again. “No seriously, it’s just like you left it. Riko was living out of her trunk when she was here last summer, and when Vi and her stayed over Christmas they just made a bunch of stacks on the floor and put it all back in their backpacks afterwards..”

“They were only up there for sleeping anyway, I got to see _all_ their homework because they were doing it in the Snug, there was _so_ much of it, and over _Christmas_! It was completely insane! I figure the teachers were just trying to keep everyone busy, what with everything going on..” Kean grinned like Fritz over a full bowl of cream as he drew out the end of his sentence end with a suggestive shrug. He was such a dear, really, so proud to be in the know and everything. And it was damn hilarious to see Lea grow increasingly curious. Her little brother, ladies and gentlemen.

“Well, there were people getting petrified, so they had reason, I suppose,” Edie mentioned blithely, before taking a more serious tone. “And it was really only that much homework because we hadn’t done it earlier, really, you better not let it get to that, ever. Riko’d agree with me on that..”

“Oh, would she now..?” Lea was clearly trying to read into every little thing while determinedly ignoring the throw-away mention of petrified people. It was so Lea.

“Yeah, see, so you can totally see how trustworthy she is right there,” Edie smiled smugly, counting internally, one, two..

“Riko only cared about that boring homework because of her protégée..” Kean hotly interjected.

“..and she only had that much homework to care about because we’d got so distracted by the petrifications..” Edie added, no less smug now to keep on playing those two.

“Yes-yes, good heart and a solid head on the shoulders, clearly, the lot of you kids,” Oma stated calmly, shooting them a quelling look.

“Solid head, hah, she’s brilliant, what with finding out all about those guardians, Graveworthy didn’t even do that..” Kean carried on.

“Graveworthy was writing a fictional book and had other things to do beside sneak about the castle for a year,” Edie commented drily.

“And I imagine she didn’t find out all about them on her own, did she?” grinned Lea teasingly.

“Pfff, of course she had Vi and Amy and Edie along, but that’s hardly the point, now is it..” Kean insisted, then blushed when both Edie and Lea grinned at him like sharks.

“Hmmm, I wonder what point exactly he’s on about,” Lea winked, faking a thoughtful face and tone that had Edie bite her lips to not laugh outright.

“Eh, I think he’s got a bit of a crush, but..”

“I do not crush, not on anyone at all,” Kean bit out loudly, now blushing furiously in a very nice shade of fuchsia.

Oma cleared her throat, looking at once amused and exasperated, and even Papa shot them a mild look. It was probably a good thing Mama was currently poking the grill in preparation of putting on more filled mushrooms. Edie cleared her throat with an appeasing smile.

“Right, as he just reminded us, he doesn’t crush, our Kean.”

“Besides, I’m not the one getting dozens of thick, fat letters, on Saturday _and_ Sunday, so there!” Kean just had to add, gods, he was really just like Riko sometimes, and no pause before the days either, no discreet interruption after starting to say _for the full moon_.

“That’s right of course, but I already told you there’s no need to be jealous of it. Most of it was about school stuff, and of course basilisks, and what they’ve been up to, which I told you all about, and of course about visiting over the rest of the hols..” Edie smiled warmly at him and ruffled his hair, a sure-fire way to thoroughly distract him.

He squeaked in protest but leaned against her companionably after he had sufficiently defended his honour as “almost old enough for Hogwarts, damnit!” Fun as it was to treat Kean as the pet of the family, Edie knew that for at least half of her family she’d always have that role, just because of her condition. It was nice to get out of it now and then, though, and Kean never minded, and this way it was nice to re-tell everything she’d already told her parents, with Kean piping in whenever he felt a point just had to be expounded on (and, yes, Vi was clearly insane, too).

It took quite a while until she was through with everything about the guardians and what else the Untouchables had been up to last year. Lea was a great audience, gasping in all the right places, with amusement and awe, disbelief and outrage. She didn’t even once look to their parents to check if Edie was having her on. It was all in all very satisfactory and made her feel warm and safe. Her family wouldn’t tell anyone about supposedly dangerous creatures living in the castle, they knew enough creatures of the sort themselves. Besides, they had little love for the ministry and any number of it’s many stupid regulations.

It was something Edie had only properly understood after all the research she and her friends had done on the history of Wizarding Britain over the last year. Before, the casual disregard of some stupid rules, the grumbling resentment of others, had just been sort of normal. Part of her life and, of course, her ..situation. Now she had a much better view of the stupid context and history of why exactly it was better to have Mama registered as a harmless muggle vet, not as someone capable of wielding faerie magic; the exact context of why it was stupid to even consider informing the Beast Division of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures about treating a griffin; why exactly it was nobody’s business where exactly Lea had been over the last year and day..

She couldn’t even properly imagine how Amy was doing it, not telling her parents what she’d been up to, pretending like Hogwarts was all boring and normal when it clearly wasn’t. Her friend clearly loved her parents and they seemed a close family, not the sort of tense mess Vi had to deal with. It hadn’t exactly been easy to explain the exact shape of that to her parents, although they seemed to have understood it better than she did herself.

While Lea was telling Mama all about the recent gossip at court in the First Kingdom, who-all had sent regards to her family, and how was that ser or lady of the Order of the Ceridwen, and so on and so forth, Kean fell asleep against Edie’s side, slipping down to rest his head on her lap. Edie leaned back, too, content to drowse and listen with half an ear to tales and accounts of things she’d probably never get to see.

Of course, as it grew dark, Lea did ask a few questions about Edie’s tale, but her parents only calmly reiterated what they knew, what Edie had told them. Then..

“Now, dear, why don’t you tell what you’re sitting on since you got here, hm?” Oma, well, didn’t so much ask as comment. Edie felt her ear prick up but kept still, careful to not changing her breathing.

“Oomaaa, really, can’t it wait till tomorrow? I just wanted to have a nice evening of catching-up first..” Lea whined, though in good humour. They’d drunk well of her spoils all evening, so it wasn’t surprising.

“That bad, is it, Lea? You’re not going to tell us you’re set to leave and marry a nice lad or lady of King Ronan’s are you? I’d feel cheated, I really would’ve wanted to get a good once-over of any potential spouses of you well ahead..”  
Mama laughed easily, when Lea loudly protested with solid hilarity, but she didn’t let up.

Lea heaved a sigh and answered, sounding just a tad guilty, and sorry, and defensive. “No, it’s nothing bad, really, just.. I’ll be applying for the apprentice Healer program at St Mungo’s. I still got a good week to send them the whole paperworks and all, and a while before it starts in August, and I was going to tell you tomorrow, y’know, I just didn’t want to.. throw it about yet, just wanted to have a nice evening with y’all and I’m sorry..”

“Lea, dear, why are you sorry? Come now, healer, that’s a great profession, well-respected, and..”

“Oh c’mon Papa, a’right, I know you two were looking forward to me working with you, take over in time, so’s you could take a decent vacation more than once every blue moon..”

“Oh hush, now, Eleana, seriously,” Mama interrupted, and considering how rarely she called Lea that, it made an impression on Edie. From the sound of it on Lea too.  
“Now, I won’t deny we would’ve been pleased if you wanted to take up with us and take over once we are old and grey, but at the same time I won’t say I’m very surprised, I think none of us are. You’re a people person, dear, and none of us would want you to do something you won’t be happy with.. and you wouldn’t be..”

“Mama, it’s not that I don’t like..”

“I know, Lea, you’re good with the patients and with their keepers, you just treat everyone like a person, it’s only one of the things we’re so proud of. But you’d get bored and we’re proud you’re going for healer, you’ll be a damn good one, no doubt. Doesn’t mean I’m not curious, though..”

“You mean what brought this on?” Lea sounded glad, relieved really, at Mama’s warm humour, and Edie had to stop herself from grinning. Lea was sometimes a bit dense about supposed expectations.

“Something like that,” Oma commented in a tone of dry amusement. “See, we had even bets between musician of some sort and some sort of researcher or healer, so of course we’re curious what decided it..”

“Loki’s tits, Oma, you are impossible,” Lea groaned, clearly giddy with happiness, then gathered herself with a deep breath before explaining properly.  
“Well, music is grand, even if I’m mostly just good for writing lyrics, but I just.. y’know, I like it too much.. it’s something I do because it makes me happy, not because I can do a lot with it. And, well, I think it’s important to have some more decent, informed folks as healers, is all. And I just.. I want to help, really help, people, and there’s lots as don’t get helped properly..”

“You mean because..” Papa trailed off and Edie kept her breathing easy and undisturbed despite the cold pooling in her gut. They couldn’t even talk about it with each other, without her involved, how could Riko expect Edie to tell her parents their secret was out, and to a bunch of kids, too?

“Well, yes, that too,” Lea answered, drawing Edie from her gloom, “I mean, I was there when that one healer, if you really want to call her that, Pilverton or whatever, how she said she was so sorry and it was so bloody obvious she was just sorry for you, not at all for Leon, and if we hadn’t been so lucky with that Hawke fellow, even though he was still pretty young, just taking it down like that, a head wound, bad fracture, I don’t even want to think..”

Lea cut herself off with a growl and from the sound of it topped her wine again. The pause was silent, not really tense, more like.. understanding.

“Anyway,” Lea continued more calmly, “it’s also for Faeries, if they get admitted, so they don’t get administered stuff they shouldn’t, like morphines y’know, and don’t have to give data they don’t want to, and just in general, y’know, I think most healers just don’t really try to find new ways, which just sucks. It’s nice to know what people used since Rowenna’s days, but we don’t need to wait for new diseases or poisons or curses to appear before we can try to find better ways of patching up people, right?”

“Right you are, dear,” Papa said, pride clear in his voice.

“It’s not unexpected you’ve given it a lot of thought already,” Mama said, her approval very audible.

“Well, she’s the daughter of you two..” Oma teased.

The following “Hey now’s“ from all three broke the mood from the sombre pensiveness and Edie felt herself relax, too. She was also proud of Lea, impressed really, especially as she continued listening. She’d always known her big sister was quite brilliant, of course, but still, hearing her concrete plans like that, that was different.

And from the sound of it she’d soon get to move into Lea’s room for real, now if that wasn’t great, then Edie didn’t know. It’d be great when she got to have the others over, she could owl them tomorrow, and she had two weeks before Amy was away in France, her friend could come over at least once in that time..

With Lea’s happy explanations and plotting flowing on, mixing with the ghoul’s soft, rhythmic drumming from the stables, Edie soon fell asleep for real, barely waking up when the grown-ups at last decided it was time for everyone to head for the beds.

*

“Merlin’s balls, ye’re such a daft bint, Fina..” Vi whistled with a grin as she checked out the wards around her least favourite cousin’s belongings.

Honestly, this was just lazy, relying mostly on lots of punch packed into the set-up. Now, usually that might’ve played out, but using pretty simple, straightforward family wards when you were visiting at a house of said family.. sort of completely beside the point, no?

With a smirk, Vi walked back to the door, lathering a handful of locking charms over it. She wasn’t sure she’d call it locked, earlier, so she was really just doing her cousin a favour, sort of. Not that it was likely that Fina would really learn from it, but it was theoretically possible.

Then she ripped into the wards. Most of it was easy enough to unravel but a few conditionals were too strongly engraved to try and cancel or reroute. They were, however, also so straightforward that it was hard to feel seriously threatened by them. The backlash trigger was taken care of by a previously readied shield charm, the alarm just.. was, and the locking trigger was only tied to the door. Vi felt the corners of her mouth draw up in a grin. The only thing that could have made this more fun was if Riko had been beside her.

Then the ward was dissolved and while her hands stung Vi could hardly stop from laughing when she saw that Fina was still storing her fags in the same place. Admittedly, they were dripping with a slew of pretty nasty jinxes, but still, they weren’t even warded against movement, Morgana’s cup!

Vi was absently counting time as she levitated five packages into the inconspicuous book that was charmed to double as a box, Amy’s best gift to date. It had taken some work and fiddling, but by now it wasn’t just hermetically but also hermeneutically sealed once you closed it properly. The tracing-charm that was stuck under the thick coating of jinxes would be no match for it. Nice idea, considering this was Fina, but then, it wasn’t going to do her any good. Too bad the book only allowed for one and a theoretical half layer of packages, even if it were empty.

There was already the angry beating of fists and yelling to be heard against the door and Vi smirked again. Seven packages left and the idea to just set them on fire before leaving was tempting. But that wouldn’t really be smart; it’d both preclude further raids and make Fine think she didn’t have anything to lose. Bad idea all around.

Instead, Vi drew two quick circles with her wand, both around the remaining packs. The inner circle she tied to the door and into the ring between them she poured some tame, well, mostly tame fire. Hers wasn’t the nice blue of Amy’s; it tended to look and behave more like real fire, if mostly stuck with hues of gold, yellow, and green. Good enough though, even a bonus here, as diversions went.

With a grin she walked a few steps towards the wall by the attached bathroom before closing the book and tucking it into her robes, fastening it properly while she quickly strode over to the nearest window. Let Fina try and trace that. Again a simple Alohomora did the trick and it swung open. Vi didn’t hesitate to jump on the ledge and scoot out before closing the window again. She pulled up a hasty Obscurantis, although it probably wouldn’t last long, and lowered herself by her arms while looking back into the room. The trick was always to not look down first.

Taking a deep breath and concentrating, Vi banished the thought of staying around to watch Fina’s face. She was now hanging from the windowsill by her bent arms, only her head and shoulder above the ledge and it was high time to get some traction. Vi formed a seal with her fingers and focussed. It was damn stressful and required more attention and energy than she liked. But when she swung her feet to the wall they stuck, and so did her hands when she started moving downwards like a strange sort of spider.

The library wasn’t far, just a storey down and a little to the right, but she was pretty done in when she could at last put her feet on the ledge. The Obscurantis was still active, which was nice, but it immediately dispersed when she opened the window. Ju was sitting at the centre table of the grouping of upholstery and darkwood that served as the main study-slash-impressive-seating, and of course she looked up when the window opened. She didn’t comment, though, so Vi only nodded at her and closed it before wandering off.

She didn’t go far. The library was a good place to properly clean what had just become her stash, for numerous reasons, and it shouldn’t take long anyway. First was of course drawing up a circle of chalk and pushing a Scutum Strepiti in it. She’d have to charm it clean later or she knew the library elves would take it personal. Seeing how they were the closest to sane, rational and, most important, impartial, as far as family servants went, she really didn’t want that. Vi simply couldn’t afford to lose this particular Switzerland.

Her short, wry laugh on the muggle-ism from Amy sounded hollow, stuck in the circle, and she refocused to draw a second, just inside the first. For that one she used coal, better to obfuscate the tracer, and it gave better grip to her containing ward, too. As expected, it didn’t take terribly long to clear what was now definitely her stash. It’d have gone faster with Riko here, not just because two wands were better than one. She was pretty sure her friend would’ve found a trick so she didn’t have to clear each pack separately.

Vi was in the middle of clearing the third pack when she heard company approaching. With a sigh she interrupted her work, taking care to properly close her book box before breaking her circles and whispering a cleaning charm. Calling up a fresh Obscurantis she headed to the seating area.

“..or heard anything odd, is all.”

As always, Fina using that special, smug nasal drawl on Ju rubbed Vi entirely the wrong way. On the one hand there was vague relief because it was what Fina thought her polite voice. On the other hand it was still condescending as fuck, not to mention Fina had absolutely zero business interacting with Vi’s little sister at all!

“As you’re obviously looking for Victoria,” answered Ju in a dry, matter of fact tone, “I can tell you she’s probably still around here. I saw her wander by about half an hour ago, from somewhere upstairs,” here she waved her hand in a way that passed the window but strongly implied the Astronomy section on the second tier, “towards somewhere there-about, Runes maybe..”

Vi’s grin as she watched the tail end of the conversation wasn’t owed to Ju’s dismissive look as she settled back into her book, but it did play a part. Especially with the way Fina found herself unable to do a thing about it. Unlike Vi, Ju enjoyed a very extended sort of immunity.

Well, there were good reasons for it, and Vi was honestly quite glad of it. Ju was only nine, she’d have no chance against Fina, not for a long time, and the idea of her little sis having to deal with the edges of their parents and their business.. Merlin and Morgana, _no_. Being the good daughter and thus the pet of the family helped, and besides, Vi was well used to it, wouldn’t want to change it, certainly not for a while.

But mostly it was nice to know Ju was still firmly on her side, at least against Fina. And with her liberal use of literal truth, vague gestures and generous estimation of time she’d all but gifted Vi with an alibi. Also, just how long had Fina tried to find a hidden entrance up there? Eh, no matter, she better make the most of it, now..

Vi didn’t wait to hear Fina grumbled retort, she made for the shortest route into the Runes section, dropping little warning cantrips on the way. They were little more than very fine trip wires, and really the best way to time her, huh, entry? More or less, though exit would fit, too. And there she came.. Vi counted one, two, then dropped her Obscurantis and stepped around the corner. Very nice, still a few yards away from her, and this isle was mostly home to very thick, heavy lexicons.

“Fina,” she greeted with an admittedly not very subtle sigh of resignation.

As per usual, Fina looked like she wasn’t sure what to be annoyed at first; her unwanted pet-name, not being properly appreciated, being in Vi’s presence at all, or of course the initial reason, in this case her loss of badly protected fags.  
Well, so sue her, Vi was well past simply tired of her cousin; if she had to interact she wasn’t going to tone it down. Not like it ever did any good, so what was the use in false politeness? Civility just had to suffice. Of course Fina was never one to back away from anything, either.

“Alright you freak of nature, give it up!” she snarled with a frankly hilarious scowl.

It took an effort not to roll her eyes, to keep them trained on Fina who was liable to blow off the lid if dismissed like that. And so much for civility, too, although Vi had to admit she was usually the only one who gave even half a fuck about that. Especially when nobody else was watching.

“What are you even on about,” Vi said, voice even but also filled with all the cold disinterest humanly possible. Fina’s voice had already barely qualified as inside voice, if she kept this up.. well, it was a fortunate isle for it, no doubt.

“What am I even.. why you smug little shit..” Fina hissed, her eyes narrowed to pale slits.

Perhaps it was the overexposure, but it didn’t really look threatening; what with her narrow pale face and her habitual sour grimace it more resembled a confused rodent. Vi kept quiet and ready, patient. No point in stoking that particular fire, or in trying to avoid it either, she knew that from experience.

“You went after my ..things.. again,” Fina accused, now looking mildly deranged and still managing to sound like she had a lisp although she definitely didn’t. Her hissing wasn’t, however, any closer to normal library volume than her previous words.

The one advantage of the decree to not wear that common hat while you’re under your own family’s roof, and tilting it over your eyes like that is seedy and improper so stop it, was that things like drawing up your eyebrow were just that much more useful – and fun.

“I’ve been in the library for quite a while,” Vi stated confidently in her most even, bored tone. Even if Fina had indeed managed to get her hands on a cueroscope it wouldn’t do her any good now. “Ran into a spook? Or did you annoy one of the ghosts again?”

Vi loosened her stance a little with the words, feet apart and ready to draw any moment, should Fina escalate already. She also couldn’t, well, _didn’t_ catch the small smirk that accompanied the last words. It was one of the best things to needle Fina with, what with her history of it, here.

Fina answered, very eloquently, with a wordless hiss that would have done any tea kettle proud, but she didn’t explode. Instead she drew a deep breath and narrowed her eyes even further. The fine hair on Vi’s neck tingled and her shoulders tensed on pure instinct.

“Oh, you’d like that, eh, you freak,” Fina spat, “As it is I’m sure you have no idea where my fags have gone, hm?”

She drew closer and since Vi wasn’t going to back up, thank you very much, she now had to look up to properly watch her cousin. But, Vi reminded herself, it really wasn’t that bad. With no back-up Fina was much less likely to start something. Besides, she could handle herself just fine in a one on one, and even if the current development was an indicator of a cueroscope being involved, she could still handle herself, had done so for years before Hogwarts, not to mention hung out with her Untouchables since first year.

“That’s correct,” she intoned drily, consciously loosening her shoulders to be ready for a good dodge. She also insisted internally she didn’t know what Fina had done with the fags she still had, and those Vi was currently carrying around were clearly her property now, after all that effort.

Judging from the frustrated huff of breath and the way her eyes became all but invisible in their slits, Fina was dissatisfied with the result of what she’d clearly assumed was a great way to unveil a lie. Like a parody of every Gryffindor ever, she then decided to ignore facts and reason.

Admittedly, in this case Fina was, depending on the view, right to do so. It also saved Vi from breaking the stoic patience her own house was so well known for. She didn’t fancy continuing this conversation, especially with the risk of running into something she couldn’t obfuscate away. Besides, Vi had been waiting, itching for this exact moment, when Fina would try to use her bigger stature and the close range to corner her. She gave a loud yell and at the same moment dodged back and to the side. The barrage of books hit Fina like a small avalanche.

It was difficult to not laugh as she raced away, especially with the heavy cursing Vi could hear behind her. Even more when she could hear the sound of more books hitting home just as she tuned to the next isle, followed by yet more cursing. Vi was too far away by then to hear any more hits the shelves managed, but the cursing kept up.  
She didn’t stay around this time, didn’t stop before making it to her favourite fine weather spot, and that wasn’t easy to reach or wise to try without being obscured.

Taking a deep breath after finishing the relevant ward circles, Vi leaned tiredly back against the wall. The balcony was so small it had clearly been made for house elves, the banister so low the best thing to do was sit and let her legs dangle over it into free air or prop her feet against it. It was also pretty much invisible, the way it was tucked between outcrops of architecture, and unless you fit through hidden house elf doors you’d need a broom or the ability to stick to walls to reach it.

Currently, even flying by on a broom wouldn’t show Vi, only the small corner ledge that was always visible. The Obscurantis felt like something gently scratching on the back of her eyeballs, she really needed to get some rest, some time soon hopefully, but being safe up here was worth it.

When she’d finally cleared her packages, Vi felt she well deserved a decent smoke. It was good to relax once in a while, really. Fuck, the fact she actually felt better after taking down her wards was enough proof; a circle, once done, shouldn’t be a perceptible strain. It was nice to just not think, even only shortly. She’d have to get sharp soon enough, obviously the four OWLs she’d got had earned Fina her own little cueroscope, and training tomorrow would be vicious tiresome, what with Fina’s temper and her propensity to shit on rules if angry.

No matter now though, not like Vi could do anything about it either way. At least they were here, not at the Knot. Easier time getting some privacy, be it for just getting away or having a nice smoke or, huh, yeah, or receiving letters without them getting caught beforehand.

Watching the distinctive form of Riko’s great raven slowly draw closer, Vi took another drag, reflexively making sure the smoke was kept out of sight. That’d be all she needed, to get caught because of smoke signals. Her Obscurantis wouldn’t help for shit then, and extending the spell over it was definitely too much effort for now. Also nice she didn’t need to worry about Korra making a direct line for her, she was smart like that. So, no need to do a thing, just keep on relaxing. Perhaps smoke a bit faster.

Like Amy, the raven wasn’t very fond of the smell, and with the effort involved in liberating it, Vi was loath to waste it. After all, it wasn’t like she could get them just anywhere. Even if she’d manage to get to a muggle shop, and with muggle currency, they might not even sell them to her because she was too young, Amy had said, and good luck trying to get to a muggle shop without some sort of serious fallout. She wondered how Riko got hers, but somehow she’d never got round to asking, yet.

So, by sheer definition of rarity, they were quite valuable, despite being nice but not much in and of themselves. Was that how it was in muggle prison, too? From what Vi had overheard, cigarettes were the common currency there, though that seemed seriously odd. Of course, Vi didn’t exactly know much about muggles or muggle prison. They didn’t have dementors, that she knew, and people seemed to learn a lot of useful if often illegal things there. It was a requirement for most of the few muggles who worked with her family directly, to have been there.  
Not like she ever got to really ask any of them though, or properly talk to them at all. Curiosity was officially not a requirement for her, overhearing bits and pieces the most she ever got, if she was unobtrusive enough. At least that wasn’t hard, what with being quiet officially a requirement.

Eh, whatever. There was Korra, dropping like a silent, solid shadow, snapping her wings open at the last moment to land on Vi’s propped up knee. With a sigh Vi shook out her wand and disintegrated the fag, it had been almost done anyway, and then did a charm to clear the air.

“Oi there, Korra, good t’see ya,” she gave the crow a tired smile and hurried to take the letter that was pointedly shoved in her direction. “Ta, y’want a snack?”

Didn’t look it, what with the nonchalant shrug and tolerant croak. Korra jumped down onto Vi’s foot where it was propped against the opposite wall, from the look of it content to comb and settle her feathers. Alright then, nothing urgent going on, just read the letter then..

 _Hey Vi,_  
_remember what I said about extended family and hanging out? Yeah, turns out I was right, hah, no surprise there, right? Yeah, thought so ^_~_  
_Anyway, I probably won’t get round to writing anything for the next handful weeks, so I just wanted to let you know. Also, I’ll of course totally keep my fingers crossed for your tournament, even knowing you don’t need it - perhaps it’ll jump cause and help with whatever else ^_^ Hope you take care of yourself and also all the best from me and everyone here._  
_Cheers and Give ’em hell!_  
_Riko_  
_ps: can you send Korra on to the others about this? Also, she might agree to stay and have a bit of a vacation from me if any of y’all ask, y’know, with Amy not having an owl and all. Just sayin’ ^_~_

Of course it got a short huff of amusement out of her, it was from Riko after all. Not that it meant there was nothing to worry about, it was from Riko after all. But well, that was the thing, with her friend those thing weren’t mutually exclusive, and this letter seemed mostly safe.

Unless you really wanted to dig yourself an early mental grave from paranoia, which Vi didn’t, and from the overall tone there seemed no reason for it either. Whatever Riko got up to the next few weeks seemed to have her in a good mood, so that was alright. High time for it, too. She’d had Vi worried, seriously worried, end of the school year, and even when she’d seemingly got over it, the worry hadn’t faded completely. Because Vi knew Riko well enough to know that something that upset her like that wouldn’t be without consequences.

Vi was intentionally not thinking on what Riko might come up with, or might already have come up with, to get over her temper. Whatever it was, it had to balance a thousand years of misinformation, bad history, more bullshit than you could literally shake a wand at, and the loss of her friend’s house guardian. No chance of it being even remotely sane. She only hoped Riko would tell her, tell them, what she was up to, so they could help. It had not been great to watch her friend run herself into the ground with her research, how obsessed and hurt she’d been over it all, over stuff that had happened ages ago. It’d been disturbing and painful and messy.

Amy had felt so bad she’d been quiet even with them, and extra sharp and severe with her Gryffindor friends, from what Vi had overheard. And Edie always tended to worry anyway, and with none of them wanting to press her, Riko had almost exploded in the Great Hall, _had_ exploded anyway, just in better cover, and the fallout from that ..ugh. End of year had been right bothersome, no denying it, even with the little drawing cooperation Edie and her had got up to for a distraction.

Well, now Riko was, just like Amy and Edie, having a good time; that was bound to help, distractable as she was. With any luck she’d also soon get to tell them whatever it was she’d wanted to tell them back in winter. It was bound to be unpleasant, and Vi had not always felt good about not mentioning it. But her friend had said it wasn’t actively terrible, whatever comfort that wording was, and she clearly did mean to tell them, and Vi wouldn’t take that from her. And although Vi knew better than to actively hope or look forward to it, the chance of staying with Edie for two weeks during the hols did exist. It sung a siren song of potential and Vi could enjoy that, and look forward to seeing her friends, at least in the privacy up here..


	3. Back in the Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For distractable, active people vacations tend to be quite active, and that is not a bad thing, surely, as they can do things that would otherwise be stressful, if their time were not their own to handle...   
> but it also means things just might turn up or happen, and hit them more easily then if they were not so free to be anywhere they like..  
> or maybe is makes no real difference where one is. things do happen in any case, unfortunately, and the living have to deal with them, is all..

This time, Riko’s plans upon arriving back in the London branch of Gringotts differed greatly from last year’s. Exactly like last year, however, she thanked Fhuuzhako as shortly as possible, to show her appreciation. Her father’s bank manager didn’t bring up the matter Riko had asked about almost a month ago, so Riko didn’t inquire. It’d be rude, even more so with goblins believing it the height of courtesy to take up as little of a valued person’s time as possible.

Besides, it wasn’t that shocking. It was to be expected it’d take a while to find someone who had the means to get their hands on, much less offer for trade, a basilisk, especially a Mycenaean. They were the most deadly, most magical, and thus most illegal sort. Well, no matter. Riko had decided on the death of her house guardian as the thing to be rectified, as the only thing possible to amend, and she’d see it through.

It was simply the most logical thing, right, it wasn’t because it was her damn fault it had happened in the first place. Viatrix had said it wasn’t. That had to count for something, right, had to.

She shoved the thoughts away, a necessary act made much easier by the last few weeks of relaxing company and mental training. There had also been general training and napping, it was a natural consequence of hanging out with Kumomaru’s lot, and exploring and such, she was herself after all, but most of all the time had helped her get a grip on her head. And of course they had their own ways of handling mental intrusions, and immediately understood why she _needed_ to learn something of the sort in her current situation. And if she missed them already, well, time to put that aside, too, she had things to do, and she could and would see them again, after all.

Determinedly here and now, Riko headed for a teahouse in muggle London. She’d glamoured herself before even leaving the dark, drafty corridor for Gringotts’ opulent main hall, but still, it seemed safer. Then, having substituted a hearty English Breakfast for an early dinner, she headed for Errol’s Pub.

Ilar was bound to be still asleep, but it was no trouble to get onto the roof and have a nice nap on the flat middle of the mansard roof, the weather was fine enough. Except she had a letter to finish first. Edie was supposed to get it today, after all, to read while feeling increasingly miserable, hiding in her room from sounds and light and smells all attacking her over-active senses. Then, Korra on the way, Riko dozed off over today’s Daily Prophet, which was despite the dramatic headline frustratingly vague and boring.

Yes, it was impressive and dramatic that someone had done it for the first time ever, but if you couldn’t say more than “Sirius Black escaped from Azkaban”, nothing on how or who exactly the guy was, then what exactly was the point of making it a big-ass article? Just typical, seriously, she could just as well read The Sun..

When the alarm charm she’d linked to her pocket watch went off, Riko felt pretty damn fine. It was half an hour before the pub was officially open, which meant she wouldn’t get into Ilar’s way but could look forward to being expected and served already. And indeed, the lanky barkeep greeted her with a cheerful wave when Riko stepped around the corner to the side alley, having used a combination of sticking to the walls and energy-boosted jumps to get down. The woman was dragging a few chairs out to a table and seemed utterly unsurprised.

“Oi there, Riko, our dear free trav’ler of th’lands, y’know ye can jest agree on a way t’get yer key, don’t have ter sneak ’round corners waiting like some street cat, aye?”

The sun was currently just the right angle to hit the entire front of the pub, making Riko blink and Ilar’s profile seem like it belonged into the pretty Nouveau Art style stained glass windows. The way the light played in her very short hair of mixed grey and brown. The way her cheerful blue eyes seemed to sparkle in front of the light reflected from the windows. It was very similar to the feeling of coming home she got whenever she arrived at Gin-san’s.

“Hey there, Ilar-san, good to see you!” Riko happily let herself grin, and then proceeded to assure the barkeep it was no trouble at all as was, though it was nice of her to offer, and so on and so forth.

She traded the key for her usual room, the one to the back, with the east facing window, against a roll of pound-notes and made her way up, to store away her stuff. The pub was still very much the same, though some pictures had been swapped. On the balcony, the tables were arranged a little different, but otherwise it looked the same as last year as Riko made her way to the door in the back, out and up the stairway on the back wall, inside again and up the small hallway, the stairs, and right into what was, sort of, her room here, her London place.

The small, low window was already open and Riko cheerfully dumped her bag on the adult-sized bed, breathing deeply the smell of waxed wood, fresh linnen and drying herbs. The entirety of Errol’s Pub, although slightly larger inside than the outside of the building suggested, was so much smaller than the Aoi Fukujin but it had a very similar feel. Homey-ness, or welcome, or something like that. They were different flavours, yes, but still, both instinctively pleasant. Errol’s was, like Ilar, more on the cheerful and active side, less about slightly mysterious retreat and relaxation. It fit the location in a city, of course, and also Riko’s current plans.

First thing was take out her trunk, still shrunk to the size of a zippo, and tap it with her wand to get it back to normal. After digging out her broom it took hardly any time to prepare her backpack for tonight’s op. When Riko got down, Wynne, the cook, had just arrived and between greeting and gossip promised her today’s first sandwich as soon as the kitchen was ready. Then Ilar told her with a face of very discreetly held in check curiosity the current plus of her tab.

“Oh, yeah, hope you don´t mind but I didn’t think you would, y’know, s’just, paying up-front’s the polite thing to do, yeah,” Riko smiled sheepishly. “S’customary at the Fukujin, most inns I’ve been really, and I know you’re fine with partial but, just, m’not gonna make you loan me til I’m done..”

“Nah, s’a’right,” Ilar waved it away easily. “Ye’ won’t get away without tellin’ me some ’bou them Inns now, though. Could always be I want ter take a vacation, y’know..”

That, Riko could do easily, and it was fun, too. Then some of the regulars started drifting in, occasionally noticing Riko and giving her a nod or wave, her sandwich arrived with greetings from Wynne, and it was just another enjoyable evening at Errol’s. Well, not entirely. Firstly, it was Lughnasadh, so the mood was of course festive and energetic, even more patrons than usual present and many of them singing along and dancing to the music – again a live band on the balcony. Also, Riko did keep a bit more of an eye on the clock, and her mind might have been busy going over her rather simple plan.

And then there was the weird news announcement. The pub’s telly was small and nestled between bottles behind the bar, but it was there and visible if you were sitting at the bar, which Riko usually did. Even so her attention was only snagged away from the current game of darts when she heard something that tugged, that sounded familiar.

“.. public is warned that Black is armed and extremely dangerous. A special hotline has been set up, and any sighting of Black should be reported immediately.”

Hadn’t she read that name just this afternoon? And, now that she thought on it, that’d make the man related to Draco’s mother? But if so, how? And this _was_ the same man? But why would the Ministry inform the muggles of some escaped wizard? And wow, did the man look bad. Riko tried imagining him related to Lady Narcissa and couldn’t. His gaunt face was positively skeletal, surrounded by a matted tangle of filthy dark hair that went down to his elbows. From his expression, he was clearly not all there.

Also, the picture they showed in the background looked odd, like a still of the moving one from the Prophet. It’d explain why it was in greyscale, even on the muggle telly, thanks to the painters guild etcetera, but why make it a still? And then the newsreader just continued about something-whatever regarding the Ministry of Agriculture and Fisheries. Riko sat back with a frown. Weird as it was, that was definitely the man from the Daily Prophet’s article. If you really wanted to call it an article; it had clearly been put out there just to have said something at all, probably only hours after the escape, consisting of the headline, hardly a handful words, and a picture that had portrayed that same man, only moving and not looking quite as flat. Huh.

“A’right there, Riko?” Ilar’s voice shook her from her thought.

“Oh, yeah, just a bit ah.. curious, ’bout that Black bloke,” Riko admitted, jerking her jaw towards the telly, which was now showing something about cows or meadow regulations or whatever.

“Seen him before?” Ilar winked, but there was a curious tilt to her head.

Riko gave a short laugh and shook her head. “Think I’d recall that, nah. Well, saw his picture in some rag, earlier. Just thought he looked.. weird, y’know..”

She gestured uncomfortably, not quite sure how to say it. He didn’t really look human, not like a human should, even taking in account whatever had happened to the photo, and it was creeping her out. He’d been in Azkaban for over a decade. Hagrid had been in Azkaban too, twice now, not long, but still, he was dead scared of it, had said he’d thought he’d die there. Just what sort of place was it, beyond an island in the north sea, guarded by dementors?

“Aye, makes ye wonder where they had ’im.. what with the ’xtremely dangerous ye’d think it’d be a high security one, but those’re checked all th’time, ye’d never get a prisoner t’look like that. Looks like ’e’s from th’ bloody Dark Ages..”  
Ilar shook her head, clearly disapproving, and pulled two pints for someone two places over, then promptly got roped into a discussion about where the man might’ve escaped from. The patron, not a regular, joked that it was probably up north, which Ilar didn’t seem to appreciate.

“Yeah, weird, right,” Riko said quietly, leaning back.

She had only a very general idea of prisons, beyond the summaries from her parents when she’d been small, just what Eliria-sensei had told her as general knowledge, the idea of rehabilitation instead of the eye-for-an-eye mentality, or at least in some countries, stuff like that. And she had of course overheard bits from, err, less savory folk, even before coming here for school. Some of the kids she hung out with here, outside Hogwarts, had been in the system, but they had all been in juvie. Some had family that had been or was in prison, and it hadn’t really sounded that terrible, more like just another place where you controlled people. Nothing like..

“Oi, Riko, y’a’right there?” Ilar asked again, making her blink.

“Yeah, ’course, jest a bit distract’d, gonna visit a friend later,” Riko resolutely shook herself out of it. She had things to do, she could let her thoughts chase their tails afterwards. “She’s ill and I’ll just drop in and make sure she’s doing a’right, y’know, be back tomorrow an’ all..”

Ilar nodded, clearly curious but also distracted by today’s lively crowd, and Riko retreated to her usual out-of-the-way manners. She sat on the corner edge of the bar, for a good view of the dart players, and cheered indiscriminately during the next few games until it was time to go.

Theoretically, Riko could have flooed from the Leaky Cauldron to the Blue Box, at least to get there. Possibly even to come back to London, what with the damn full moon’s zenith being tomorrow _after_ noon, but her paranoia prevented it. The chance to be noticed, even glamoured, no, it was just too risky. Far better for there to be no trace to follow at all, if anyone should get any wild ideas. So, around ten, Riko went up, put on her backpack, and grabbed her trusty Lightning ’67. Climbing up the ladder to the hatch onto the roof broom in hand was not optimal, but it worked well enough. Then she was out, securing the hatch so she could get in again, and then lifting off lightly, Nue buzzing lightly under her, as if impatient for having to wait so long in the trunk. Calling up an Obscurantis to cover them both, Riko patted the broomstick gently, and they were off.

It was fun, and Riko had to admit she had missed it, just a little. Yes, flying with a Baquo Raven was somehow.. more, because it was you flying, controlling every little movement, and the feeling of complete control and freedom was just glorious. But it was also damn taxing. With her broom it was really the perfect mix of less effort but still such an amount of freedom and control it made her whoop with joy when they cleared over a big forest. Riding with a Komainu, or any other friendly being, was nice but you were always just the passenger, not like this.

Still, the trip wasn’t without effort. The landscape below was unfamiliar, and even after two years of Astronomy the stars were not as familiar as those of the eastern hemisphere. It worked, though, what with the map she’d taken along and all, and Riko reached the Latch just a bit before midnight. Over an hour of flying with only occasional stops to check her course had her feel just a bit tensed up, almost tired, though that was probably her messed-up time-rythm. Either way, it was nice to have some time before midnight, to rest and then find Edie.

Riko landed on the roof of the big stable, again petting Nue and ensuring her broom wouldn’t fall off. Then she stretched, properly, extensively, quite a few times. After crunching through a pack of pocky, she repeated the exercise. Then, by now it was going on midnight, she put a second, much tighter Obscurantis over only herself and jumped down, boosting her legs to reach that tree over there and then safely reach the ground. Now to look for her target.. too bad she couldn’t have Edie’s senses right now, to sniff her out. But even so it wasn’t terribly difficult, Edie had given a few hints during conversations and Riko had decided to do this a year ago, she was well prepared.

The smaller stables were out of the question, their cellars didn’t have any windows, so it was the big one, now where..ah. It was expertly hidden, really, by not being hidden but rather made easy to overlook, and luckily it wasn’t warded just as well, just a small one, the equivalent of a muggle tripwire, really. Made sense, no suspicious spell- or wardwork to explain to any potential visitors of any kind. The window didn’t have any glass in it, was only a set of very thick grates, but even so it was easy to look in, at least if you had decent night-vision.

There were no sounds at all, obviously the grates were enchanted. It was a good thing the window was hidden so well, otherwise Riko might have just ignored it, expecting to hear Edie’s snarls at the close distance – shortly after midnight it was a reasonable expectation. It looked creepy and strange, to see the wolf rage without hearing any sound at all, but Riko pushed the useless thought aside and set to work. Fritz was already there, teasing the wolf as it tried to catch the great enormous cat.

The only other advantage worth mentioning was that with all the muggle-repellant charms, the more subtle distraction charms, and judging how the ground looked here, all moss and weeds and unvisited, Riko wouldn’t have to worry about being interrupted, even during the day. And of course, nobody in the family would think it a good idea to go to the small grate window and look in on their family member being a bloody, out-of-her-mind wolf.  
After it was finished, meaning when the enormous wolf started contorting in obviously horribly pain, trashing and howling and rending herself with movements that grew ever more feeble, Riko didn’t stay around. She was feeling miserable enough without watching her friend curl up and painfully change back. Her job was done, after all, and she couldn’t risk being found by Edie’s family, who were bound to show up soon. Instead, she jumped straight up a handful yards with a boost, seal ready, stuck to the wall with all four only for a moment before she repeated the move, and in a few jumps she was back at her broom.

Her head was pounding and her throat painfully dry. Stars and _shades_ , that’d been terrible, doing it alone was so damn much worse than with a partner, _ugh_. Yes, Fritz had been great, for a cat, but he was still just a cat, even if he was also part kneazle, and Riko couldn’t just take a short break and let a partner take over. She _had_ paused, had to, to drink a little or take a potion or stuff in a snack. But that’d been what, thirteen hours? Bloody crap, she just wanted to curl up and die now that the adrenaline was wearing off. But that would be a terrible idea, and a terrible place for it, too, damn it. Edie would kill her double dead if she found Riko’s corpse here.

With a sigh of complete resignation, Riko curled up sideways and then laboriously sat up on the roof, blinking her painfully tired eyes against the bright light. Rooting around in her bag, she forced down a mix of pocky and mochi, washing it all down with a bottle of mugicha. It helped, somewhat, giving her a boost of energy, although the desire to just curl up in the sun was growing, too. No way around a wide-eye potion, then. Riko was packing her bag back up, storing the second empty wide-eye vial in her side-pocket, when she remembered the second Obscurantis.

Not need any longer, she recalled, and then enjoyed letting it go, crawling under the one on Nue. The release helped, though her eyes still felt much-too-dry, but, well, she’d got used to that last year. And she really needed to be gone.

The flight back was easier but no more pleasant, the heat grim and draining, the air thick and sticky. Riko had planned to write some more on the second letter, the one Edie should receive tomorrow for recuperating, but there was simply no way that she was up to it when she stumbled into her room. It was all she managed to set an alarm charm to wake her for the pub’s opening in.. ugh, too-few hours, that was for sure..

When she arrived downstairs, Riko was still exhausted but at the least ready to manage a decent meal, breakfast, dinner, whatever, and then crawl back into bed. She was awake enough, she’d used only cold water for her washing-up quite intentionally, and it’d worked out well enough. Ilar seemed to realize Riko was tired and busy and left her mostly alone. The early Monday crowd was small enough to make it a good idea to write the letter down in the pub, on a proper table, and Riko was extremely glad she’d made a sort of list on what to write before going for her run of satellite interference. Even so it was a hassle, and she hoped it wouldn’t read too odd to Edie.

She’d included she was tired, so it should be alright, hopefully. Unless that damn Murphy Interference reared it’s head, but she really thought, after last year.. but what if Edie somehow noticed something, had she really left no trails or.. ugh, damn paranoia. All of this would be so much easier if Edie wasn’t so damn stubborn. Riko was grumbling incoherently when she at last fell into bed, with Korra again on the way to the Latch.

When she woke up it was normal early morning, and thank the four winds for that, clearly her time rhythm had adapted to local time. Her remaining plans and errands weren’t uselessly paranoid, they were entirely justified paranoid, good to be properly herself for it all.

It was nice to get used to London and Diagon Alley again. She did have to buy some things in muggle London, but most of her business was around and behind, so to speak, Diagon, in it’s shadowed side-arms and tributaries. Riko still resented replacing perfectly fine clothes just because they were a bit scuffed, if that, but there was that thing with appearances in her house. But, well, she’d checked most of that off her list in Bordeaux, and it was only a small part of her list anyway. There were lots of general supplies to buy, parchments, ink, potion supplies and so on and of course books for next year, both for her old subjects and the three new ones, and her projects.. and there it went already, towards the.. less immediately school related things to take care of.

For one, she had a plan for Kean’s birthday that would need some work, and of course she needed to stock up on horn of bicorn and boomslang skin, the two restricted ingredients for the Polyjuice Potion. The mood and climate on the street was more tense than last year, which was a damn bother. With Black on the loose, both Ministry folks and their potential targets were that much more touchy about pretty much everything. And with the Potion itself officially declared Dark, Riko couldn’t very well risk buying both ingredients with the same persona. Just bothersome.

But, luckily, she still knew from last year where she had a good chance of finding some, and with a year of random listening in and informering on the Drake family under her belt she also knew a few more names to visit. So, even if it was slow going, it went much better than her other research, and that was only partly to do with her usual inability to concentrate and keep at it instead of getting distracted by any other interests or thoughts. Or giving into the distracting urge to run around outside and meet up with her muggle.. alright, _friendlies_ , and just.. be.

Not that her jumpy brain being less of a limiting factor than last year, in comparison to other factors, was all that great. Stalled was stalled, after all. Riko still wanted to know more about that weird mind-reading magic and what to do against it, but so far she hadn’t turned up anything useful, it was just too damn obscure. There was more to find on Basilisks, yes, but none of it was useful in the sense of how to take care of one. On animagi it wasn’t terribly hard to find general info, such as when it had become something to be registered, and who had registered when and all that, but there was precious little on _becoming_ one. Obviously the Ministry didn’t just want but actually managed to _keep_ the lid on it, making sure people had to go to a registered person to learn it or whatever. Damn.

The only subject she’d made any sort of quick progress on was one of her distractions, Sirius Black. Well, up to a certain point. There was a number of colourful articles on him in old editions of the Daily Prophet, and old editions of Nature’s Nobility confirmed he was related to Lady Malfoy after all, a direct cousin even, before something-or-other. But when she’d looked for the record of his trial and sentence there hadn’t been one. Which, well, perhaps his trial hadn’t been open? Except there was nothing _at all_ on it in the papers around the time. There was one pretty short bit about him being caught at some massacre in a muggle street, implicating him as a high-ranking follower of You-Know-Who, but that was it.

Which made it.. sort of odd. That had been just after Harry Potter Lived, and the papers of those days were filled to brimming with trial after trial, but Sirius Black never came up. But, well, they probably didn’t list trials that hadn’t been accessible to the public. So.. impasse.

Theoretically, the Library Elves informed her when she asked, any citizen could send letters to the Wizangamot to enquire about any judgement doled out in the past. Practically, Riko figured she really didn’t want any official attention, and _her_ writing an enquiry on _him_ , _now_.. yeah, bad idea.

Which was.. vexing. Seriously damn annoying, even. If only she had someone trusty she could ask to do it for her, but no. Amy was in France, and Riko wasn’t sure they would answer a student, and Edie’s family could do without any official attention, too, what with Edie’s lycanthrophy, and Vi, yeah, right, no way. Damn. Except.. hm. It wouldn’t hurt, right, of course there were some angles, there’d be some risk, but really, it wasn’t anything serious. And, surely her contact would feel better for it. After all, it’d mean a lessening of obligation. And it was no big thing, nothing illegal for them to do. Perfect, really.

Riko had last written to Auror-in-Training Tonks shortly before the holidays, she wasn’t going to listen in when there was a risk of overhearing Vi, but then, she didn’t exactly inform regularly. And, well, she might not have been extremely useful, for obvious reasons, but there had been some use, that she knew. She’d overheard at least some of the reactions of her targets, after all.

Even so, Riko was absurdly nervous when she strolled towards her favourite curry stall on a corner of Coev Alley to something far smaller and nameless. She was polyjuiced as a random muggle, and doubly glamoured to boot, but even so she’d checked around carefully before stepping closer. But no unexpected or new lurking lurkers were visible, not with the third form of Obscurantis nor her pings, and there was the suggested straw hat, a boater type one, and as if that wasn’t clear enough, she’d never seen anyone wear one here before but still, the bright blue of it was very... clear. Straw hat and something blue alright, specially with the saffron coloured robes, just, wow..

Adjusting the seat of her own, faded Tottenham cap Riko thus cancelled the Obscurantis on it and took a seat beside the old wizard, nodding politely. He raised an eyebrow, looking a the cap, then lightly shook his head while Riko waved to order today’s pot.

“Still lots to do, I take it,” the wizard said and the amused way he crinkled his nose was remarkably relaxed, and despite his very different features rather Tonks.

Seeing this, Riko smiled back politely, with decidedly more caution, hoping to get past this without triggering any similar memories in Tonks. (yeah, paranoia, but the woman was very sharp and had surely learned only to be more so in her Auror training!)

“Yes indeed, and it only ever gets more, never less,” she said, then nodded automatic thanks when a bowl was plonked down in front of her, handing over the correct amount.

“Yeah, that’s how it always goes,” Tonks agreed easily, obviously cheered by the exchange of pass phrases.

“So, the reason I didn’t find anything yesterday is..?” Riko asked around her curry. She was tense, what with the lack of her fangs, but it couldn’t be helped. She couldn’t walk up to a wary Auror armed like that. Even now Tonks was eyeing her with much-too-sharp attention.

“Well, for one I was curious, and for another I was really curious..” while she talked, Tonks slid her glasses up her crooked nose and looked through them, at Riko, then pulled a face, shook her head and let them slide down again. Looking over their rims like that she reminded Riko of Headmaster Dumbledore, which made her uneasy on principle. “Right..” Tonks continued at Riko’s look, “Thing is, there wasn’t one. Which made me curious, of course.”

At this Riko nodded, trying to keep her face neutral but it probably didn’t work entirely, different face and all, she’d have to factor that in if she repeated this. But really, that was odd, right? Tonks certainly didn’t seem amused by it, from her look and the way she stabbed into her curry.

“So I read up a little, the record of the locale, y’know, t’see if it might give any hints..”

And now Riko was officially surprised because that was definitely not what she’d requested, and it definitely went past just a little favour. She kept quiet, but Tonks seemed to catch, or more likely deduce, her worried thoughts.

“Hey, I said I was curious, a’right, also got me to meet you here, and a decent lunch for once, so yeah, works out,” she shrugged, “It’s rather messy, as records go, so I thought I’d look it over in peace, y’know, during break of course, can’t let it get in the way of work, so yeah, better get to that,” Tonks said, raising an eyebrow, and pulled a file from her robe, putting it beside her bowl, between them, and they commenced eating.

Reading the file was a lot like the research of last year, in a way. Not on Tonks’ end, not at all. She “read” very slowly, and very obligingly turned to the next page on any kind of grunt from Riko, but the content, bloody shit and spirits, the fucking content..

According to the record, Sirius Black had been caught at the site of a muggle massacre, wand still out and laughing manically. It was a valid guess to assume he was responsible, what with no other living being around. That was also where valid, and reason, and all of that in general, seemed to have left for an extended journey and unsurprisingly never bothered to return.

Black had been incapacitated with quote-unquote extreme prejudice, and his wand had been snapped right there, where he’d been caught, before even a Priori Incantatem, since people had apparently been somewhat freaked out by the carnage. That and his laughter. Which.. well, was a bit extreme but they had argued better safe than sorry. It didn’t say who all had been involved, it was only signed by the highest ranking official of the day, one Cornelius Fudge. The current Minister of Magic had at time been working as Junior Minister in the Department of Magical Catastrophes. Huh.

After this, Black had apparently been brought straight to Azkaban, as he was deemed too dangerous to be held anywhere else. He’d also needed some medical treatment, though Riko didn’t know all the terms used. It didn’t end there, though, no, it wasn’t that he’d just been forgotten.There had been interrogations, afterwards, and lots of them, authorized by the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement of the time, one Bartemius Crouch. There were no results listed, though. That had gone on for some time, and wow there was a damn lot in the file that was masked, classified even for an Auror, well, Trainee. Anyway, it was creepy. And then it just stopped, no more interrogations, no entries at all.

And now, over ten years later, he’d escaped, and nobody had a clue as to how. Which understandably freaked them out pretty bad, they still knew fuck-all about the guy, or at least about how to get him. There’d been nothing else in the papers since the escape. Riko made sure to memorize the most relevant facts, such as the medical terms and the key dates and just vaguely absorbed the rest without even trying to think on it. That she could do later, on recall, no point right now, she wasn’t curled up in a library taking notes, this here was the sort of situation that had more than just one preplanned exit-strategy as a necessity.

“See anything interesting,” she then asked upon looking to the side where Tonks had clearly been watching her instead of reading.

“Did you know,” was the reply and wow did Tonks look dangerously neutral now, downright creepy.

Shaking her head didn’t seem to be enough answer, from the Auror’s look, so Riko rolled her eyes and expounded, trying to talk with as much (aka _not_ much) of a German accent as Oma ever showed. She hoped it didn’t sound too terribly fake, but knowing the language had to help, right?

“No, I knew nothing about the man before reading about him in the papers. I’m not from ’round here and I got curious when I read about the escape.”

“Not from here but with some interesting connections, hm,” Tonks said, and that was where Riko knew the line should be drawn.

Her look must’ve said so already, but she didn’t let it go quietly. “S’right, not like’s got anything to do with each other,” she raised her eyebrow in a challenge, but Tonks didn’t seem to want to argue that.

“Right,” was all the Auror said, and they hurriedly finished their respective curry.

Riko felt it was only good manners, after today’s shocking display of cooperation from Tonks’ side, to tell her it’d be at least two months before she could expect any kind of fresh intel. The Auror Trainee’s visible mood had nothing to do with it at all, not like it was good news. But Tonks nodded as if she appreciated it and stood first to leave, so at least it hadn’t hurt. Even so, Riko traced the wizard’s saffron robe until he was out of sight, and her own retreat was the most paranoid and clumsy combination of shadow-tricks and Obscurantis she could remember in quite a while.  
Well, stupid body she wasn’t properly used to, clearly one-time body-copies were a bad idea if any sort of proper action had to be anticipated.

At least, she argued, sitting on a roof and waiting for the polyjuice to run out so she could change back into her own clothes, she now knew what to improve on, and also had some more things to research. Like some more on healing, again, and the careers of one Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, and one Bartemius Crouch, former Head of Magical Law Enforcement, for example. She did wonder what Tonks would do with the file, beside give it back of course. Or if she’d do anything at all, because really, what was there to be done?

The man was out there, wherever, certainly not in Britain if he was smart, and he didn’t exactly seem sane or safe company, no matter how badly and creepily the Ministry might’ve fucked him over. And, nice as it was to have distractions to research, she knew she’d do better to try and find something on the subjects that were really relevant. And the supplies for the Polyjuice were still a work in process, and tomorrow was Vi’s tournament which she was going to watch no matter what, and Kean’s birthday was on Thursday, and Ann’s on Saturday, and Tom had asked her for a few Solitary Pounds, too, and Will still needed her to translate that video, and Pip had apparently caught some trouble with ill-advised runework, and, yeah, so much for holidays..

With all of that going on, and lots of it not going anywhere, Riko was not in the mood at all to ignore one more itch of curiosity. She tried to distract herself from it, hanging out with Rose and Billie’s group. Jess had, so to speak, switched teams, well, and housing, for obvious and unpleasant reasons, and was now hanging with Beth, one more reason to swing by and enquire and all that, but Riko did have to make more or less regular trips into Diagon and beyond even if she didn’t stay long, and he was not going away, and she wanted to know!

It included Potter so she was a bit.. alright, _very_ wary. But on Friday he was still there, in Fortescue’s, so she couldn’t just let it go, alright. Because what exactly was Harry Potter doing there, being a seemingly permanent fixture in Florean Fortescue’s? She’d seen him on Monday, both on her way in and out, and that had been hours apart, but, well, so what if he was sitting there all afternoon, his business not hers.

Amy was of course not with him, still away in France, oh, right and the Weasleys had won a lottery and were in Egypt, it had been in the Daily Prophet. From the looks of it he was doing homework, nothing interesting to see, and Riko didn’t fancy getting into something with that walking catastrophe.

On Wednesday he was still there, despite it being pretty early, heck, the parlour had just opened up from the looks of it, and he was again alone and doing what looked like homework. Well, there was also an odd pair on a table by a corner, watching him. Hm. On the second walk-by of the day she paid some more attention and he was still being watched by the pair of suspiciously generic looking folks. Now that she thought back, there had been another pair of comparable folk on the same table on Monday, both times she passed. Hm.

Sheesh, if those were Aurors it had to be the I-want-a-break-shift, and considering he was still alive and here it was likely it was Aurors. Which begged the question why was Harry Potter being watched but obviously not bothered by Aurors while he seemed to have moved into that café?

Riko didn’t try to answer that question that same day. She had picked up no small amount of boomslang skin, and she didn’t fancy attracting the attention of a pair of Aurors while carrying restricted potion ingredients, or parchments of research on her projects. And with her kind of Potter-luck they would attention her like nobody’s business, just judging from the way they looked at the few people who noticed Great Merlin, that is Harry Potter that is, should I ask to shake his hand? while Riko went inside and got herself a cone of cindermander ice.

But then, on Friday, he was still there, and damnit, alright, she hadn’t asked Amy because if her friend didn’t know then she didn’t want to worry her while she was away, but Riko wanted to f’king _know_! And she didn’t have anything illegal on her today and, alright, she didn’t really have that many other reasons to be at Diagon Alley that day, so it would be stupid to not ask, right? Right.

The Aurors were still sitting on the same table, although it was again a different pair. And so what if curiosity killed the cat, satisfaction brought it back, and Riko was no cat anyway. Even so it was with much unease that Riko let go of her Obscurantis while hiding round the corner. She couldn’t go up there with a glamour and it made her uneasy like nobody’s business. But the Aurors were bound to check her and besides Potter wouldn’t talk to some stranger, right? Right. Clearly. _Seriously._

It was still pretty damn early, relatively speaking, and there wasn’t much traffic, and it was unlikely one of her housemates, least of all Draco or Tony, would chose that very time to get their stuff here, right? Right. So if she wanted to know what was going on she’d have to get out there, not hide like a stupid coward too scared to show her face to the world. _Ts’sho-soh._

Taking a deep breath, Riko checked down on herself again. T-shirt, her usual Samue-jacket tied round her waist, her usual, comfortably loose trousers, muggle trainers, backpack mostly empty, completely non-threatening, shades, she’d even left her fangs at Errol’s!

Walking up to Potter’s table and sitting down with every impression of nonchalance reminded her uncomfortably of her walk to Ginny’s apology last year, which was incidentally the last time she’d directly interacted with him. As in she’d only barely held back from straight-up murdering, or rather man-slaughter him.

“Hello, Potter,” seemed the least bad thing to say, then.

As usual he looked like a black mop had exploded on his head, though Riko wasn’t going to judge, what with her own exploded mop of white. Also as usual he quietly stared at her with his eerie bright green eyes, not so much too light for his dark skin but rather a bit too wide-open, his face a mask of confusion and whatever, she never really knew. And also as usual Riko did not have the patience to be quietly stared at. Being stared at pissed her off already, and the lack of interaction, of traction, just rubbed her entirely the wrong way. It made her want to poke and prod and stab just to get some reaction.

“Haven’t you got a home to go to?” was snapped out before she could even think on it, and it was just a saying, alright, some of the street kids used it in jest and they actually didn’t have a home, so what was his deal now? Because that look she knew, only it was usually aimed at Draco; it was the look of seriously pissed and ready to be stupid about it. She sighed and raised her hand, palm up.

“Hey, no offence, seriously, but far as I know you’d be staying with yer muggle relations, not become a permanent fixture in this fine parlour, and you’ve been here since Monday at least. Can’t blame a person fer growing curious ’bout that.”

Potter leaned back at the words and, well, at least his face was now back to simply wary and the still-out-of-place-seeming thoughtfulness she always found so unsettling. Progress. His arms were crossed, classic defensive gesture, and her curiosity and impatience grew in the pause.  
“What do you want,” he said, just before Riko would’ve felt obliged to poke again and, wow, was he wary, and controlled, seriously damn curious.

Then someone cleared their throat directly beside them, and when Riko looked up she noticed Mr Fortescue looking down his nose at her, as if she hadn’t been a perfectly harmless guest and patron a number of times already. Sheesh. In person even, no glamour and all.

“Good day, an iced tea, please,” she said, pleasantly and with a polite smile.

As Fortescue left, Potter shot her another odd look but waited until the man had moved before speaking. “You’re oddly civil,” he looked after the man, “considering last time you seemed ready to disembowel me.”  
He sounded perfectly calm about it, if still wary, but also, in his entire tone and bearing tragically serious. Ugh, _seriously_.. didn’t he ever just have fun?

“Well, I didn’t,” Riko gave him a sharp smile, glad the Auror-table was behind him, at the very edge of her field of vision. “And I usually am civil, it’s a thing, manners and all that.”

He rolled his eyes and Riko smiled with only her teeth, taking her backpack down and storing it under the table.

“Please make yourself comfortable,” he drawled, and she shot him a look of smug amusement, appreciating it as the start of a normal conversation.

“Um, Hermione had a few choice things to say, after..” he gestured vaguely, then carried on, “and Ginny almost hexed Ron when he ..said a few things, about you being in the hospital wing.”

This was _not_ the conversation she was interest in having, least of all with him of all people, so Riko kept stubbornly and coldly quiet. Mistake, that; of course, being such an _utter_ Gryff, Potter just kept at it.  
“So, what did you want with Ginny?”

_Ugh._ She wanted a _smoke_ , and it was only because she wouldn’t back down, ever, that Riko didn’t just leave and fuck the iced tea and her curiosity. Leaning back she shot him a dirty look.  
“Ginny is the injured party,” she said evenly, quietly, trying but failing to quite hit the icy calm tone of Professor Snape explaining something obvious any damn idiot should know already. “If you recall, she was possessed and almost died, and I was no kind of helpful because I was just too damn slow.”

Then she resolutely stared over his shoulder, refusing to look at him, refusing to see him stare, see the stupid judgement or whatever-shit on his face. She let her fingers drum rhythmically on the table and thought of Viatrix, of how calm and blunt she’d been listing her own failings, like mere facts.

“Yeah, about that,” Potter sounded gratifyingly uncomfortable now, small favours, “turns out the monster wasn’t discorporeal or from outside the school after all.”

Riko felt her eye twitch and then _had_ to stare at him, narrowly, the carefully stored-away coils of rage starting to stir at the many, many things wrong attached to that statement, and from _him_ , the..  
“Really,” she said, hands flat on the table, forcing calm, even if her voice turned bitter. “Beside the fact that the few giant spiders we met were the exact opposite of helpful, I seem to recall something about a freaking spirit, who got smuggled in via an old diary, from outside the school.”

Potter looked rather dissatisfied with that, but he stayed quiet, biting his lip for a few uncomfortable moments of continued staring at her. Stars and shades, how she _hated_ that. Fortescue appearing with her drink was a good distraction, and so was the tea itself when the man left.

“It attacked me, y’know, nearly killed me,” Potter said at last, arms crossed again and all, so _ill_ at ease.

And, oh, _ugh_ , Riko got it then. It still pissed her off, and she wasn’t just going to let it stand like that, but she had to give him at least some rope. She crossed her arms right back and leaned against the back rest; didn’t sigh, again looking over his shoulder.

“I guess if I were _entirely_ clueless and being attacked by a giant snake, commanded by a crazy spirit and trying to kill me, my first thought might not be talking to it,” she said at length, only barely keeping herself from grinding her teeth. The tea was still a great distraction and also delicious.

“Hermione said you found another entrance, and a book, a journal, and that it really was a guardian, before..” Potter quietly said after a few more uncomfortable moments.

Riko took a measured breath and roughly stuffed it all back in the trunk it belonged, shooting him a dry look, not really surprised. “Of course she did,” she sighed wryly, “idiocy and injustice piss her off, don’t you know.”

“Yeah, don’t I ever,” he said, looking down.

And so she didn’t say “He, not it,” didn’t ask why he never asked even a single bloody question, or how he could have thought Hagrid would ever have.. nope. Not going there. Not even just because of the Aurors.

“So, y’gave yer muggles the slip and moved in here, or what,” Riko shot him an even look and a raised eyebrow, kindly closing that entire subject and getting to her own point.

The look on his face was priceless, all shifty embarrassed, heck, he was actually starting to blush, and Riko couldn’t stop a snort of laughter. “For real? Ye’re on the Tod here? If this is you on the lam then boy I gotta tell ya, ye’re doing it wrong!”

“Not like that,” he groaned into his hands and Riko almost laughed again. “I’m allowed, a’right, t’stay at Diagon the rest of the summer, Minister Fudge said so, it’s all cleared..”

“Him, huh,” Riko said, very neutrally and mostly to cover her surprise.

“Yeah, well, he did clear Hagrid, and since there was some.. some trouble with my.. muggles, he said I could. He was at The Cauldron when I arrived.”

The explanation didn’t really explain much, typical Potter seriously, but she doubted he’d tell her more. He was already getting over his embarrassment and sliding back into his usual defensiveness.

“Alright, fine, sure,” she grinned, “Your friends’ll be glad they don’t have to worry ’bout you then.”

From the strange way he looked her the idea hadn’t even occurred to him, and Riko almost shook her head. But then a middle sized barn owl, ah, Bill, landed on their table, scattering Potters parchments. She greeted Bill and scratched him just like he usually liked, but he was quiet and subdued while he let her untie the letter, more like a small note and thus probably time critical, from his leg.

Oma just died, Riko read. It was like a punch in the gut. She blinked but it still read the same. There was more, a bit lower, like Edie had been entirely freaked by the first sentence. In German, explaining next week’s invitation unfortunately had to be cancelled, offering _apologies_. But Riko’s eyes kept on flying over the first three words, her attention narrowing in on it in a way that seemed to squeeze the rest of reality to the edge. The large, rushed way it was written, so atypical for Edie, the way the words below were so much smaller, more ordered, distant.

Distant, yeah. Riko knew all about that, distancing from painful, not-fixable stuff. And now her friend was out there, with a hole where a loved one used to be, a sudden, bleeding, painful, empty hole. All the worse because Oma had been the one most relaxed about Edie’s condition, Riko knew. From whom would her friend be able to get the needed level of close, of safe, of comfort, when she’d be busy making the rest of her family not worry? And there Edie was, apologizing, even if it was on autopilot, and Riko wasn’t going to hold distance-autopiloting against her, but..

“Who’s Ouma?” a voice asked. Potter, _pronouncing it wrong_ , like he had any _right_ , and if looks could kill that would’ve been his last _stupid_ words.

He had the sense to look flustered, and sorry, and Riko looked down again. The letter was flat on the table, pinned down between her hands. She took a deep breath and folded it again, Bill was still sitting there, and from his hoot he expected it back. Of course. Edie surely hadn’t written _that_ more than once, and Riko was the least distance away, thus the first to read it.

She tied the letter back on Bill’s leg, acting on autopilot herself. She hadn’t even properly known Edie’s grandmother for long, heck, the time she spent with her might amount to a month in total, at most. So, yes, Riko mostly felt bad for her friend, not just bad, horrible might come closer, because she knew (knew _exactly_ ) how much Edie had loved Oma. She also knew Kean would be heart-broken, just yesterday he’d grown ten, bloody _shite_. Her own whatever, shock, baggage, was nowhere near, not the time for it now, too.

Bill took off, again scattering some of the parchments, and Potter was still looking at her questioningly but at least he was silent. A nasty spike of temper flared but she bit it down. It wouldn’t help and she had to.. she had to be helpful now, or at least try.

“No business of yours,” she said flatly, settling her face in empty and neutral. “Now, can you give me some parchment please, and the use of your quill? I’ll pay you the expense.”  
She didn’t want her answer to be on a ripped out notebook-page, and parchment and pencil were not the best of friends. He looked oddly at her but nodded and pushed both over, keeping quiet.

_Edie,_  
_do NOT apologize, please, there is NO need to._  
_I totally understand you might want some peace._  
_just, please, if there’s anything I can do to help you out, anything at all, a hug or talking or listening or just being there or being away but sending you anything, a book or a drink or sweets or a pack of fags or a blanket or any sort of unique artefact or a piece of someone or other, whatever.._  
_just, please let me know if there’s anything I can do, alright?_  
_Love, Riko_  
_ps: you’re NOT alone, alright. just.. you’re not. say the word and I’m there, I’m serious._

It wasn’t very neatly written, what with Riko still more used to glass quills and having to make sure the parchment was rolled up so Potter wouldn’t see what she was writing, and when she read it over it was utterly insufficient for what she’d wanted to say, damn it. But she didn’t know what else to write and oh, bloody crud, she hadn’t even said sorry, didn’t one say sorry? Sorry seemed an odd word to apply, but just to make sure, she added

_pps: I’m sorry, I didn’t say I’m sorry, but I am, sorry, or, I feel for you or yeah, sorry. I’m utterly sorry._

Pulling a disgusted face at her complete failure to make any sense she threw the quill away before she added another dozen improper sorrys. She was folding it when Potter spoke up.

“Err, sorry, for.. your loss?” he said and Riko felt her eye twitch.

She kept looking down and grit her teeth. It was what one said, right, and yes, she had told him it was none of his business but to explode at him now was probably not on. Not constructive, either.  
“Right,” she grit out, giving him a nod but refusing to look at his face, not wanting to see his expression. No good would come of it.

Besides, she had things to do, letters to write, plans to salvage. She put a few Sickles on the table and left with a vague wave, heading for the Post Office. Having deployed the letter with hardly a wait she thought only afterwards to scribble a similar if shorter note to Kean, after a short hop into Scrivenshafts. Bloody _shit_ , she was so stupid, she should’ve attached something to the original letter so Vi and Amy would get it quick. She had to handle this now, she’d need to look up the right way to write such a letter properly and send it to the Eohyrdes, officially like, and see where she’d stay, now that her plans for the Latch had fallen through, and make sure Edie was alright, perhaps Vi or Amy had some ideas, because clearly her own letter sucked utterly, and just like that Riko was _again_ , damnit, completely out of her depth on how to help, how to fix something she just couldn’t fix, didn’t know how to make better at all.


	4. Family and Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> holiday plans are adapted, and in this case it means a decided lack of relaxation, even if the entertainment and company for some is better than it could be..

When Vi opened the letter from Edie and read the first three words it was like a hit in the head, from the first, dizzy confusion to the stab of not-quite-sick in the guts. _Oma just died_ , it said, and Vi had to read it three times before her eyes would even start to move on. There was more, further down, like Edie just hadn’t known how to properly add anything to that and, well, Vi understood that at least. She didn’t even want to know just how much it must’ve hurt to write those three words, from how they looked they might have killed Edie, too.

They hadn’t, of course, what with the other stuff written further down. In German of all things. Vi sighed. She wasn’t going to hold it against Edie, but it was not exactly awesome for her parents to know that, once one of the elves got to it. Couldn’t be helped now. It was of course about cancelling their plans for next week, and because it was Edie, even if it was Edie running on painful social autopilot, it included apologies, _apologies_ , for not being able to host them on account of losing a close family member, Morgana’s bloody _pestle_.

Bill was still sitting there, watching her expectantly and, oh, right, of course Edie hadn’t written that three times, and Amy was still in France, Riko probably still in Japan, and they didn’t even know yet. Bloody shite. Vi dug through her pockets for some of that dried jerky, ah, right, there, and gave a little to Bill, then refolded the letter and tied it back on his patiently stretched-out leg. She felt mildly bad about being glad the letter was still needed elsewhere, but well, practicality. Bill nibbled lightly on her finger, then rustled his feathers despondently and flew off.

Vi sighed, leaning on the window sill, then shook herself into action. A fresh parchment was needed, damn, she was lucky Korra was currently hanging out in the area, had done so over most of the last few weeks.. Stuffing that can of worms back before the thoughts could crawl out, Vi only heaved another sigh and bowed over her own letter.

 _Please do not apologize, Merlin’s hairy balls, Edie, just don’t._  
_I am terribly sorry for your loss, and I know I only met her shortly, but she was really great and I am really sorry. I hope you’ll be alright. If there’s anything I can do, please let me know._  
_Love, Vi_

She read it over twice and sighed _again_. Nothing to be done about it, though, so she walked over to where Korra was combing her feathers with a dedication that was seriously impressive. She waited to be acknowledged, then scratched lightly over that special spot, between the wings.

“Oi, sorry ’bout being such a bad host, but could you take that to Edie?”

-

“I received a letter from the Eohyrdes today,” Vi said over dinner, tone steady and manners completely, guardedly neutral.

At any other time she’d have appreciated the small signs of surprise about her volunteering such information a lot more. But this was her being stuck here, with her family, for two more weeks, and after she’d already... Well, Oma hadn’t just died to inconvenience her, merde, get it together, Vi..

“They had a death in the family and so had to cancel the invitation,” she supplied with an air of finality, before any questions could properly form.

Vi tried but failed to counter the sinking feeling in her guts with the small satisfaction their first reaction had given her. She wasn’t going to use their (non)reactions now, and there was exactly no point at all in missing the dead lady herself, so she just pushed it all down, leaving her numb but perfectly functional. Damn, she’d actually been looking forward to visiting. At least there was no immediate comment so Vi automatically continued her meal in her usual manner. Good thing Fina and her folks were gone, invited to some more distant relations off Cardiff, else there’d be comments that Vi would not be able to ignore.

She could almost hear the exchange of looks over her head, but she knew it wouldn’t do any good to try and read any of that. It was annoying but she kept her eyes down, no need to trigger anything already, the remainder of her holidays was doomed enough as it was.

“It is of course a shame to have your plans disrupted like that,” her father said in a dry tone that raised all her heckles.

Vi murmured a neutral reply and wished dinner was over already. She didn’t need to be mocked about having looked forward to visiting a friend, least of all with Oma dead.

“The Slyver girl was tolerable enough last year,” her mother’s voice declared clinically.

There was a moment of distinct disbelief, then Vi felt her pulse spike, even more so when Gloria Drake took on a tone that was so neutral it was an insinuation in itself.

“Even Giles mentioned it,” Vi heard, “and he didn’t see much of her, you recall how busy he was just a few days in..”

Vi froze internally, because what exactly was this about? She had some terrible suspicions she didn’t want to think on at all, had them for a while now - but it seemed she didn’t get a choice today. Her father’s answer didn’t help with the sudden splinters of ice in her guts, not at all.

“Well, he often is, just look at last winter. But then, at the time there was of course a lot to do,” he said, then gave his version of a short sigh and added what in any other person might have been an afterthought. Not with him, though and Vi felt her guts freeze solid. “Considering how Victoria’s notable triumph in the tournament played a substantial role in this visit being on the table in the first place, it would seem remiss to just let it fall to the wayside. Why don’t we invite her for the time, she’s unlikely to have other plans yet and I’m sure the two will find ways to entertain themselves without getting in anyone’s way.”

If she hadn’t watched and heard him say all of that, Vi would’ve thought she was hallucinating. As it was she could only stare at her father, then at her mother when..

“That sounds like a splendid compromise, Nicomedes. Victoria, do make sure to send Elric off with the invitation before you go to bed today.”

The.. the approval in her tone, not just in the words, not to mention the content of the words. All of it, absolutely all of it, didn’t just throw her, it tossed her completely, it was like tumbling down a set of circular stairs. Vi nodded a numb acknowledgement, thanking all the gods and spirits with a mental nod to the owner of that quote for her regular association with her, utterly crazy as she was. Even with her years of experience Vi wasn’t quit sure she could’ve handled this quite as well otherwise, not this strangely nice and murderously dangerous sort of surprise.

“Of course,” she said, levelly and clearly, “Thank you, mother, father.”

-

By the time Vi sent off the letter, by which she meant she handed it over to Harly, who was bound to give it to her mother before it was sent off with their main, official owl, anyway, by then, Vi was pretty sure she knew exactly what was going on. She was also busy not panicking.

Apparently her parents thought Riko might have something to do with the trouble that parts of their business had hit over the last year.

It hadn’t been anything major and Vi didn’t know much, but there had been some minor deals messed up quite badly, Ministry people all over them. And Riko had done _some_ thing, she knew that. After that night. So far Vi had refused to think on what exactly, but the terrifying thing was, she couldn’t honestly say she’d be surprised.

The trouble in Collibarba and Antipod Alley that had more or less made them miss their train had started only days after Riko had been there, that night. As far as Vi knew there’d been nothing else for a damn good while and then, in the middle of December.. Usually no MLEP or Auror did anything unprovoked in that seasonal lull, but there’d been searches in some shops, she knew that at least, and she also knew from Ju her parents had been very busy, and she hadn’t got.. she hadn’t got a Howler again, only a generic gift card and, merde-a-bloody-lors, Riko, you idiot!

Thrice-cursed _shite_ , and the spate of ‘routine checks’ on a good number of their suppliers this summer, that had had her mother grumble on the table, even before Black’s escape set everyone on edge. Vi had spent most of her training with Fina instead of her mother this year, had missed the sharp spikes of excitement, yes, but at the same time it’d been almost restful. Gods and bloody _spirits_!

Vi sat on her desk, staring unseeingly at the wall. Merlin’s steaming guts and Nimue’s fucking girdle, and her parents had all but told her to what? Keep an eye on her friend? See if there was anything going on, rat her out? Lure her into talking while someone trailed them behind the walls or veils? Her hands were slick with cold sweat and she swallowed drily. Took a deep breath, then another, stood up to get ready for bed, counting her breaths. What was that saying Riko had adopted from Snape, ‘Don’t Panic’ and, alright, wasn’t that their entire friendship in a nutshell?

She stared up at the canvas of her giant four-poster and pushed everything down, away from her thoughts, taking up only single pieces, looking them over one by one, arranging them neatly, so they could be handled. It wasn’t that bad, that was the basis of everything, ever. She _knew_ that.

If her parents really thought that Riko _had_ done something, they wouldn’t invite her. They’d find some way for her to have a tragic accident, even if they didn’t know her current where-abouts. Letting her official letters go through Gringotts was smart of Riko, but she had to retrieve them sooner or later and that was just the first In Vi could think of. So they only suspected, were probably just covering all options, and Vi refused to think what had happened to all the other options. Pointless that.

They wanted Riko here to observe what she did, alright, and most definitely to eavesdrop on absolutely everything they talked about. That wasn’t so bad, right. Riko was paranoid on the best of days, and if Vi could just properly manage her for those two weeks..

Vi kept breathing very consciously, refusing to over-think, until she fell asleep. It was quite a while.

-

Riko stumbled out of the giant Fire place in the Hall only two days later, but Vi wasn’t sure she’d ever accumulated that much tension before. There’d been another conversation, with her mother and her father, in their grand office, with no Ju around to hear. Not even facing any of the scary creatures that made up Hogwarts’ secret guardians had been as nerve-wracking as welcoming Riko here and now, under the close scrutiny of her family. Of course Riko noticed, once she’d been extracted form under her trunk, she always did.

Vi didn’t think her family, even Ju, ever saw her really relax, not in a long time anyway, so hopefully they didn’t notice it quite as much and, more importantly, wouldn’t catch on to what was actually going on. And she had her friend to look out for now, so she had to stay calm. It helped, the way Riko dusted herself off with easy, relaxed movements and gave Vi a happy smile when she helped her up, clearly already playing a role.

Her friend’s usual interpretation of contained manners and polite thanks for the invitation were so cheerful one might think she didn’t have a care in the world. Ju headed for her lessons, Luffy disappeared with the trunk, and her parents went where-ever, probably a set of scrying mirrors set to watch Vi and her guest. She’d tried to think up plans and plans, but right then, standing there, Vi felt again torn. She wasn’t going to rat her friend out, ever, but if she made that too clear.. furthering any paranoia in her parents was the very worst idea, so Vi had to at least seem to be a.. a proper Drake. She grit her teeth.

“A’right then, lets head up to your room first? It’s across the hall to mine, same as last year..”

“Sure, wouldn’t want to run around with my improper bag for too long,” Riko gave her a shit-eating grin, lifting the strips of her backpack, and Vi had a moment of schizophrenic surreality when she heard herself give an amused huff while her guts knotted into frozen lead.

Then Riko winked at her, all cheerful and innocent, and Vi felt some of her tension ebb away. Yeah, that was her friend’s game-face, alright, it had preceded many a wicked prank, and even if Vi didn’t know how her mental twin could be so relaxed about being on the edge of mayhem, she appreciated it no less.

“I see the rumours about you, your trunk, and the Floo were not exaggerated,” Vi drawled as they climbed the main stairs, taking care to give her friend an apologetic nudge with her elbow. There was things to inferred from what Riko answered now and with how paranoid she usually was..

“Oh pfft, family tradition demands that rumours of my demise always be greatly exaggerated,” Riko grinned back, then shrugged. “But yeah, it’s a bit of a hate-love, I suppose. I didn’t want to risk my broom and such, before you ask why I didn’t shrink it, s’not just the one inside, y’know, and they’re stretched, too, so, yeah..”

“Yeah,” Vi answered drily, because, yeah indeed, she’d seen the engraved marking on the lock. At Edie’s, last winter, Riko had asked her opinion on how best to permanently let it read classicus two, instead of three. It had been easy enough, with the Roman numbers.

“You answered pretty quick,” Vi said then, only barely suppressing a sigh and hating herself.

“Yeah, I was already done being big in Japan,” Riko’s smile would have fit a Cheshire Cat and Vi raised an eyebrow in question, then answered herself. “Let me guess, muggle song again?”

“Spot on,” Riko said, smile fading but then shrugged again. “Actually pretty depressing as songs go, but anyway, yeah, I was in London on Friday. Bit early but I wanted to get all my stuff before, y’know, didn’t want to be a bother if Edie and you already had your school stuff..”

“Yeah.” was all Vi could say to that, and decide that was damn enough for now, for today, for all of time if she had her way. Hah, right, as if she ever..

Then Riko poked her in the side with an unrepentant grin and rambled about the totally wicked Care of Magical Creatures book she just had to show her, and how had the tournament gone, had Vi used that neat riposte of Lady Headway, she wanted a blow-by-blow, and so on and so forth.

She’d seen a bit of it last year, after that night when Riko.. was just there, but over the next few days, Vi developed a sort of incredulous, nervous.. envy of her friend’s game-face. She knew if she thought too much on it, and in the wrong direction, she’d start to get scared of it and all it meant. Not that she had the energy to spare. It wasn’t inherently hard, as in difficult, to keep it up, just.. draining. She’d pretend to ask, to draw out details, and watch in fascination how her friend seemed to answer it all without, Vi knew, giving anything away that she didn’t want to. But it was eerie and terrible for her nerves.

Yes, in a way it was fun, she’d always enjoyed having more than one conversation, with only one audible. The easy bantering did distract her, let her lose a little of the horrible tension that had settled in her marrow. Riko did make her smile and huff. But each time Vi snapped back on guard, she had to. She had to keep it together, couldn’t let her family escalate because she didn’t do her ‘duty’, couldn’t let them see her relax and realize it, any of it, had to make sure Riko was safe, was warned, was on guard. At least that last point was no trouble, mostly.

Vi had worried herself to no end on how to clue her friend in about them being under constant surveillance. But Riko seemed to have assumed so already and when Vi didn’t give an all-clear she simply kept playing her part.  
She seemed to have insane amounts of fun with it, too. It made Vi want to tear her hair out when her friend started to get silly, like it was all just a hilarious prank. It was scary to see, actually see Riko stand on that edge between reckless fun and real danger, ready to jump either way.

That was one thing Vi should’ve but didn’t expect, despite knowing her friend’s impatience when shit she didn’t care for got in the way of her entertainment, or even generally in her way. But then, at first Riko seemed so alright, so smart about it, already all double-speak on the way to their corridor. As if she hadn’t sneaked into the tournament when Vi knew perfectly well she had.

Up in the room Riko simply threw her backpack on her guest bed and a questioning look at Vi, that was all. Vi stayed silent, leaning against the wardrobe, too tense to sit, and Riko.. Riko grinned and asked flat-out if everything was clear here. Merlin’s hairy balls. And with that eyebrow. Vi said something about Fina having cleared out, the family being busy, having the place to themselves. She’d been numb with tension, two weeks of this looming before her mind, plain unsettled by the straight-up question after their dual-talk on the way.

And as if in answer her friend only nodded and started dusting off her clothes again, including the exact places her two massive kunai ‘fangs’ usually were, only clearly currently not. Asking if there was really no ashes left on her back. Going on about the box of souvenirs she’d sent to Amy via owl because she was too chicken to admit she’d been in London early. It was a damn clear signal, right, especially when she next dug out a bag of souvenirs for Vi, handing them over with a bow and wink that were so over the top Vi just had to huff. And then she admitted to not having done any homework yet but still tried to drag Vi into a game of darts.

She was Riko but also not, and it was just plain creepy to watch it carry on non-stop, only shifting on a spectrum of.. of Riko, really. And also scary, with both ends of the spectrum so familiar but also potentially deadly, be it by lark or sharp edges.

After three days of this Vi was beyond exhausted, beyond on edge, she was sitting on her bed, staring unseeingly into a book, just because it had been lying there. Then there was a light knock, directly followed by Uncle Giles opening her door. Typical, always trying to catch people at something or other. Vi did not greet him, she only looked, stared probably. Her face seemed to be stuck, but at least it was stuck in tense neutral. He did much the same, just standing by the closed door, hands easy at his sides, ready for anything. No way out of it. Vi wasn’t sure if she was glad or insulted it wasn’t her mother.

“What,” she said after the moments dragged on, irritable and tense. It was probably the smart thing to do, to give in first, but it rankled. Even more so at his smug look.

“Well, what you got,” he smirked at her. Vi couldn’t stop the angry twitch in her eye at that, at the sheer amount of insult in that sentence, and tone, and..

“Right, like you weren’t all listening in the entire time. Watching, too, I’d guess. Got bored yet?”

“Sure,” his sharp, smarmy smile was pissing her off even more than usual, so much that she almost felt sick. “So, question time, dear niece, is she being honest?”

Vi almost growled at that, anger pounding in her temples. As if she’d never heard of cueroscopes, as if she couldn’t guess he had one, too. “As if you wouldn’t know,” she grit out, then calmed herself, reminding herself of her official duty to her family. “Of course she is, ’s not like she cares about that shit either way.”

He studied her for a few very draining moments, a dreadful staring contest, then raised his classic I-know-more-than-you-all eyebrow and.. nodded. Vi had insisted inwardly that her every single word had been true, not even just literally, (and it _was_!) and it seemed to have actually worked. Perhaps. Or it was a trap. But how would she know if it was? And what would..

“There is a listening spell by the libra corner,” Uncle Giles’ cold voice interrupted her.. useless panicking. Vi narrowed her eyes. They’d sat there for today’s homework session in the library..  
“Its signature didn’t match the Charms-practices of this afternoon,” he added, like he was talking about somewhere else’s weather. Vi actually felt the blood drain from her face.

“We’ll of course keep an eye open, but it seems you can stop trying to draw her out,” he drawled.

The relief was a trick, had to be, Vi knew it, but even so, or because of that, it hurt like a dam breaking, like a damn melting curse to the guts. “I told you she doesn’t give a fuck, we never talk of any family stuff at all,” Vi stressed, throat tight. At his look she rolled her eyes, thinking quickly, catching on every little detail. “Unless it’s Fina-related, you know, but Riko hates everything about the Slyvers anyway and..”

Vi gestured vaguely, realizing only now she’d slipped into quicktime without even noticing. Uncle Giles was still eyeing her with shrewd interest. She swallowed drily, slowly set her hand down.  
“We never ask each other anything related to family, we don’t bring it up, I don’t know how else I can say it, Riko just doesn’t give a fuck. I think she didn’t even know before I brought it up, and at the time she was badly concussed, so I tend to believe her reaction.”

That had him shift in place, interest caught, all edges aimed at her now. Merde. Alright, better than at Riko. And there was no denying her.. motives now, damn. Anger at that fucking family duty and everything else filled her. No more calm, neutral front, full on stubborn defiance now. Crap.

“Well, I wanted to know. I’m not interested in false friends,” Vi grit out, looking to the side. Hoping, praying to any spirit, deity or fate, it’d fit with whatever he thought. Not like it was anything but true. A few tense moments passed.

“Of course,” he said, again in that smarmy, silky tone.

When she looked, she couldn’t read a thing on his face. Just the slick façade he showed in any other business sitch, none of the usual smugness. His cold half-smile made her ill with tension. Because this was worse, so much worse, if he got to treating her, or _this_ , as an actual _matter_ instead of..

“As I said, you can let up a bit, enjoy the holidays, finish your homework,” he smirked again and as much as she hated that smirk, it was at least familiar on him, was a return to his sleazy, avuncular act. “Just keep in mind not to stray too far,” was his parting shot, evaporating the last fine sliver, hah, of relief, and with another nod and no Good Night he was gone.

It felt like a vein, no, like her entire head wanted to explode from rage. How dare he tell her.. that rank pisspot of an asshole! An actual growl escaped her and the book she’d stared at earlier fell with a loud thunk after having hit the door. Vi was still staring at it numbly, trying to calm herself down, when there was again a knock on the door. She kept quiet, flexing her hands, hoping it’d just go away, she was bloody exhausted already..

Instead there was another knock, then Riko’s quiet voice. “Hey, Vi, y’aright? Can I come in?”

All the air punched out of her and Vi could only hope whatever sound she’d made hadn’t been too loud. But there was no escape now, Riko wouldn’t let up before she knew Vi was alright and Vi was.. hah, gods and bloody..

“..Vi?”

“S’aright, come in,” Vi said, well, croaked, mouth dry as dust.

Riko slunk in, carefully closing the door behind her, and immediately bent to pick up the book while quickly looking Vi, and everything else, over.

“Sorry, I just heard thumps..” she shrugged, all easy-going and careful, so careful, always ready to push only so far, to just be there..

“Yeah, sorry, it just.. fell,” Vi wanted to gesture, but her hands were shaking too badly, so she just sat there for a moment. That was obviously not any sort of satisfactory, she could see Riko get ready to comment. “I’m just really.. sorta tired..”

“Oh..right, sorry, guess you shouldn’t ’ve put it on my Monster book, I told ya it’s kinda territorial, always want to be on the top o’the pile,” Riko said easily, putting the entirely innocent victim of Vi’s temper under the handsome if easily irritated green leather book on the desk.

She also lightly drew her finger over the supposed culprit’s spine to calm it and Vi almost giggled from the surreality, because that was so typical. Making sure not to offend a book she’d just used for a distraction, even if it just had a simple sentience charm on it.

“I’m sorry about being such a hassle to manage,” Riko said then, sounding entirely too serious, honestly contrite. Vi could only gape. “I should be glad you’re not leaving me to handle my homework alone but instead I nag and gripe and get distracted all the time and..”

“No! Riko, no! I really don’t mind, I’m just sort of mushy, alright..”

“Yeah, small wonder. I know it’s a family thing, a’right, one week of no Fina won’t easily make up for almost two month with her around. Which is why I should be a better guest, not stress you out..”

“Oh shut up, you nutter,” Vi sighed, rolling her eyes and slumping back on her bed. Despite her exhaustion the fond annoyance that was now welling up made her feel slightly better. She ran her hands over her face, then waved her friend over. “Now, what did you want, beside find out what goes bump in my room?”

Because that was a safe bet. Riko usually had something to ramble on about, and right now Vi wanted, _needed_ , some sort of distraction, while she got herself back together. She’d have to properly analyse and plan later, but first she needed to calm down.

It was a while before Riko left for her room while Vi staggered up and into her bathroom, half asleep already. She’d been drifting off, to be honest, because it was easy to just give a generic grunt here and there during Riko’s extended ramblings. It’d started with a tale of meeting Potter in Diagon on Friday and should she write Amy about it, but then Amy would know she’d been back early, but what if Potter wrote her, and somehow it led to the oddity of Malfoy already being all but engaged to Parkinson and was Vi already..?

That had actually required some replies, but it led to a very restful, relaxed rambling about the fun things Riko’d been doing in Japan, a big part of which seemed to have been flying all over the place, which led, of course, to Riko wanting to fly here, because she was Riko and it was fun.

“We’d need to come up with some good rules for one on one, I mean there are the classics but they’re just for training mostly, anyway it should be easy enough to set up some goals, d’you like you balls soft or hard, Vi? - a grunt is not a valid answer, alright, you don’t care, hm, what’s your thoughts on bats?”

“They’re cute,” Vi had mumbled, eyes almost completely closed by then. She’d felt rather than seen or heard Riko’s sigh, her friend directly beside her, all warm and solid presence.

“No, silly, the wooden tool, Bludgers, Quidditch, I mean yes, they’re cute but we can’t play with bats instead of balls, hm, but with the catching they’d get in the way, right, so no bats, either kind, do you think your parents will mind? I’ll just try and have some rules ready at breakfast, then we can see, right, you’ll see, it’ll be fun and it’ll do you good, some fresh air and relaxing fun, oi.. no poking! Oh, fine, g’night then.. and don’t forget to brush your teeth or Amy’ll know and haunt you in your sleep..”

And with that and a parting wave Riko had slipped out, leaving Vi thankful she was still so damn tired she’d have no trouble falling asleep. She hated how she’d tensed up at the mention of a simple bloody wooden tool, and as great as it was to have Riko deal so damn competently with it, Vi hated how she’d just fucked that up, lost her cool that easily, how thin-skinned she was right now. How could she deal with _any_ thing like this until they were at Hogwarts again? Fuck, she needed to get herself together by tomorrow!

Being tired enough to almost fall asleep while brushing her teeth was great though, everything was so heavy, and in no time she was asleep. And her sanity was back in the morning, thank Morgana and Circe, and her brain was whirring with good ways to deal with just about everything even before breakfast. Over the course of which Riko proposed her rules for what she called Goalitch, and which they were then actually allowed to play.

Vi noted but didn’t dwell on the way the rules insured there was no reason to really talk while in the air, or the _kind offer_ to have Harly carry their things and take a picnic along. It was a fun game that Riko had come up with, and it was also nice to just sit around outside again. And then, because Riko had apparently been entirely serious in her apology about being a hassle, she asked how Vi usually hung out with her sister and then suggested they do their homework while Ju had her lessons and fly in the afternoon and maybe ask Ju if she’d want to join.

On the next day that was allowed, too, and Ju actually did join them for a few hours in the afternoon. It wasn’t even horrible. Vi felt herself settle in her usual routine of calmly keeping an eye out for potential trouble while enjoying her friend’s antics. Nothing here they couldn’t manage if they kept their head together, and have fun handling, too. She could properly interrogate her friend on the train or at Hogwarts.

As if to combat her better mood, the next day they were told to pack up because the family had business to get back to in London. Not that it changed much, just made it a bit harder to keep Riko ..harmless was probably a good word.  
Vi knew her friend didn’t do well with being confined, and the Wyvernsknot was exactly that, confining, just a big, grumpy house with not even a garden. By then Riko was also increasingly on edge about Edie, from whom they hadn’t heard since that single, awful letter. Well, Vi was, too, but it was her job to be the sane one, more than usual even, here, and she was pretty sure Edie wouldn’t appreciate being bombarded with well-meaning letters.

They’d also hit the parts of homework that annoyed Riko the most, which still included Transfigs, yes, but the worst of it was History of Magic. On second thought, with the historical mess of last year, Vi might have guessed that. Especially with their assignment. ‘Witch-Burning in the Fourteenth Century Was Completely Pointless – discuss’ it said, and the official textbook (A History of Magic, by Bathilda Bagshot) focussed mostly on how non-dangerous medieval muggles had been, citing flame-freezing charms and how rarely the target had actually been a witch or wizard.

It had annoyed Vi when she first read it, and it had continued to annoy her while she searched her family library for the needed books to properly.. discuss that, alright. Riko was not as laid back on the subject, although she tried. Vi knew because at first her friend had been very silent for a while. That was never a good sign, well, rarely. Then..

“Oi, Vi, speaking as a witch, do you feel, generally, like you are a complete and utter moron?”

That had started an extended rant on how was the supposed harmlessness of muggles being utterly hostile to magic to be consistent with the number of killed muggleborns, of property destructions, of cases where opposing families used the muggles to attack rivals. And how exactly was any of that supposed to mesh with the Ministry being supposedly made to protect witches and wizards from the muggles and their demands, if it was all so harmless, huh? And from there it went to hell, of course, because there was just so damn much to rant about on the Ministry it was a small miracle Riko didn’t just spontaneously combust.

As it was, she went off in great detail about the few best examples, although she was clearly still editing them, aware of being potentially under surveillance. Not that _that_ helped, of course, the possible surveillance just one more thing to be pissed off about. After a while, Vi sighed and interrupted to suggest a game of darts before continuing. The darts went disturbingly deep into the board, but at least Riko finished her rant on people not even getting trials, not just Hagrid, you know, just look at Sirius Black, and what sort of prison was Azkaban anyway, and calmed down.

Last time Vi had seen her so close to that end of the spectrum, her friend had been guarding her sleep like a bodyguard, after that training last year. She’d looked ready to calmly plan a murder then, and the embarrassed gratitude now, as she clearly let Vi win their game of darts, was far less disturbing. Vi wasn’t sure if her family would even get it, but she didn’t want to risk them seeing Riko like that. They must’ve noticed something though, because next day they were invited to one of the brighter, safer speak-easys.

Her perception of terrifying had obviously been damaged at some point in time, as Vi was only glad it’d allow Riko some outlet, never mind all the horrible baggage attached, like wondering if it was again a test, possibly for both of them, was it keeping potential enemies closer, was it drawing her friend into the scene to use her, or get her in trouble later.. somehow it just didn’t matter. The primary effect was Riko having an obvious blast learning billiards, Vi being genuinely shocked her friend had never played before, and despite being called to a talk with her parents late that night she felt it well worth it. They were invited two more times, to the same pub, and it helped immensely in getting her lightning-headed friend to finish her homework even as the full moon drew close.

Vi shouldn’t have been surprised that Riko had a plan there, too. It was utterly insane, most assuredly a stupid risk, had objectively a terrible effort/gain ratio, and subjectively it scared Vi more than any other insanity she had ever got into with Riko before. And they had faced mad griffins and trolls; giant, murderous chess boards and acromantulas bigger than horses.

But this was Edie. So, when Riko told her of her plan, well, hinted it, Vi only nodded and they kept pretending they’d been talking about something else entirely. She thought over it during the following charade, recalling her own frantic worries and miserable mood on the last full moon. The zenith had been round the solar noon, and she also recalled the last full moon of the last school year, which had left both her and Riko a tired, shambling mess. Alright, at the time it’d been no change for Riko, but still. It had been a gruelling fourteen and something hours, casting, spotting, always tense to cover for the other, to keep Edie safe. To do that sort of thing alone, heck, to even try; Riko was crazy.

But then, so was Vi, so of course she was going, too, no way she’d let her do it alone again. However, while that had been completely clear, even Riko’s best attempts at distraction couldn’t get rid of the pit of gut-wrenching fear, shot with spots of pure panic, that loomed up in Vi’s mind. She didn’t even need to think of concrete fallout if caught, just thinking about thinking it.. Circe’s loom!

So, yes, it was a good thing Riko had only told her on the afternoon of that exact day. It still annoyed Vi, as did the fact Riko kept on annoying her just to distract her from it, as did the fact Vi knew Riko knew and still did it, as did the fact it was working, at least partly. Gah! Slytherins!

But this night, when Riko stepped out of the darkness by the foot-end of Vi’s bed, her friend’s absurdly visibly blue eyes were for the first time in too long crinkled with real humour, shining with excitement as she held a finger to her lips, smirking. She looked at ease in a way she hadn’t in months, as if it was the most normal thing to appear from nothing, with shadows clinging to and around her like fog, turning even the livid mess of silver on her head into wan and ghostly shapes.

Vi could never resist that easy air of self-assuredness, that promise that it was alright, was fun, was fantastic, and could _of course_ be done. Worries flew away from it, and like always Vi answered with a grin of her own, grabbed her broom and took her friend’s, her mental twin’s offered hand. Being dragged through the shadows wasn’t that alien any more, no stranger than following Riko on her broom after they’d obscured and re-found themselves, over a city that didn’t really seem to sleep, over country that was definitely asleep, and so dark Riko’s eyes were glowing red.

The rush, the sheer feeling of freedom, had them racing over stretches of wood, laughter and whoops echoing back and forth. They stopped a few times, Riko flying tight circles, checking a small sheet of paper and her pocket-watch to find the way. The compass charm, right, Vi grinned and simply appreciated the fierce glee winding itself around her with the breeze just then.

The complete and utter lack of even the slightest clue she could diagnose in absolutely everyone else right then made her giddy, and she grinned widely to stop herself from laughing out loud, breathing free and easy. It was like two tremendous opposing piles, one of dread and one of excitement, keeping each other stable, giving her room to think, to breathe. Then they hurried on, flitting over the meadows like shadows on the wind, and it was just so nice to be calm, and ready to have her partner’s back.

When they touched down on the roof of the Latch’s main stable, Vi followed Riko’s example of how best to keep the brooms from falling and they looked at each other for a moment.

“Should’ve set a proper marker, last time,” Riko grumbled, looking down to where she’d opened her watch again.

Then she closed her eyes, fingers forming seals Vi hadn’t seen her use before. It was after but still pretty close to midnight, so Vi just shrugged, storing the info away for later, and shot her friend an expectant look. And down they went through the shadows, and even with the awful sight through the well-charmed grate Vi didn’t miss Riko’s distracted huff, nor the way she drew her hands through her hair. Still quite a chore to transport others, then.

All in all it was very much like their usual watches, only instead of the desolate, destroyed inside of the Shrieking Shack Edie was in a completely bare room. And they couldn’t hear a single thing, which was damn creepy. And there was also Fritz. Fortunately the pros and cons weighted each other out. They didn’t have any debris to bounce around and distract the wolf, but they had Fritz, and they flung in a few random, broken.. shoes? that Riko had carried in her backpack, and Edie couldn’t get snatched on any sharp edges.

Unfortunately the one thing that was not a variable they could influence, Edie herself, was doing downright terrible. She’d already been turned when they got down, and it was insanely hard to interest the wolf in anything other than tearing itself apart. It was a damn nightmare, and soon they abandoned their usual MO of separating into main and spotter and rotating duties. Even with two actives it was hard enough, and Vi was grateful when Riko took out a crumpled pack, absently offering it up between them.

When the wolf at last started the horrible convulsions that meant it was about to change back, the pack was empty and Vi had become very familiar with having a smoke in the one hand and her wand in the other. She was also feeling sick. It’d never been that bad before. It was probably because she’d smoked too much too quickly. Riko looked no better, all grim lines and shadows, and then Vi was being yanked into the slick not-quite-wetness of the shadows.

She stumbled a little when they were suddenly on the roof, her sense of direction, any direction, stuck in her throat, guts churning.

“Sorry,” Riko mumbled, eyes locked at her feet, grabbing her forearm so Vi wouldn’t fall.

Vi took a deep breath, working to ignore the dizziness, then nodded shortly and punched her friend lightly in the arm. “S’alright.”

She carefully sat down, closing her eyes for a moment. Next thing, she was lightly poked in the side. Riko was holding out a small bottle of water, sitting beside her. She looked about as bad as Vi felt and then some, all tense and careful movements, keeping still instead of fidgeting, which always spelled so much worse. They sat in silence for a while, tired but accomplished, Vi sipping water.

“D’you know, I actually forgot the train ride was going to be on the day directly after the full moon?” Riko said at length in a self-deprecating tone, and Vi blinked, still all tired and foggy thoughts, going through the associations and links of that.. oh..  
“Oh,” she said, then looked down at the straw of the roof, then sideways to Riko who was doing the same, studying it as if it held some secret code to solve all the mysteries in the world.

“You going to tell us, then,” she stated, then leaned against Riko who was by now so still she might well be a gargoyle. Or dead. The silence suddenly seemed very heavy.

“Wouldn’t ’ve changed a thing,” Vi stated firmly, pushing against her friend just to feel her push back a little, get a reaction. “I get you wanted it before Hogwarts, but it couldn’t be helped, just bad luck, and it’s probably better not done in a compartment anyway.”

Vi didn’t make it a question. She knew that much already, just from how still and quiet Riko could sometimes get. Not to mention the mass of hints ever since she’d properly met Riko, many of which were so obvious Vi wasn’t sure she’d call them hints. You didn’t get Riko’s set of skills, of tricks.. if you wanted to use that euphemism, you didn’t get those edges without some serious cuts or baggage. Nor the deeply-ingrained paranoia, deeper than Vi thought most people realized, or that casual, cheerful layer of certainty in most every situation, only distinguishable on a scale of how deep does it run right now. Not to mention the dry stabs of sarcasm Vi could only ever exchange with her, Amy or Edie would look at her like pufferfish, and she’d tried all summer to not think on how controlled, how shatteredly upset she’d been after..

“Right,” Riko’s dry voice jerked Vi out of her thoughts, had her drink one more sip before handing the bottle over with a scolding look.

It made her friend smile, eyes no longer quite as sharp and tense, and Vi took it for a job well done when Riko drank, then jerked with a yelp upon being poked in the side, further diverted. Even if her friend didn’t poke back, only made one of her faces.

The way back was tedious, as if the air around her was trying to drag her down, heavy like molasses. At least the shadows felt the same as always. Then she was standing back by the foot of her bed and everything sounded and felt dark, and then Riko slipped a vial in her hand.

“Oi, y’a’right to get ready for bed and all?” Riko said.

Vi could hear worry in her tone. She nodded.

“A’right. That one’s for tomorrow morning, just in case. And just a little, yeah?”

Vi looked down and understood. It was wideye potion. No reason to let suspicions arise. She sighed, feeling the shackles of her damn home and family click shut around her again. But she was leaving in the morning, she could handle it just fine till then. She nodded again.

“G’night,” she shot Riko a dry smile, saw the double meaning hit home.

Her friend answered the same way, and Vi was relieved to see she looked mostly normal, for Riko anyway, settled from her previous case of nerves. It always struck her as odd that her insane friend would draw reassurance from her, when it was really Vi who just couldn’t help but feel better with her around. An interesting puzzle, probably, but Vi was so tired she just went to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, that Don´t Panic. Try and tell me this Severus Snape wouldn´t know all about it. Just try. ;-) (Amy and Edie probably got the reference, too, or at least wonder about it being one^_^)


	5. The Dementor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A train ride and a dementor and an unprecedented passenger?   
> yeah, none of this is pleasant, and it doesn´t inspire confidence for what is to come, does it..?

Vi woke bleary-eyed and even with the Wide-eye potion (yeah, just a little) she mostly survived breakfast with her sanity intact because she was busy keeping Riko (and thus also herself) from freaking out about Edie. Their friend still hadn’t sent a single note, not even on where or when to meet today. Amy wasn’t much better, which was one more thing to fret about. Their Gryffindor friend had sent a rather curt note about staying at the Leaky Cauldron for the night before, with Potter and the Weasleys. She’d probably arrive pretty late, then, unlike Vi and Riko. This year when they came down to the hall, Uncle Giles was already waiting.

He’d kept on watching them closely whenever he was around, which was much more than last year, and he kept at it now, too, while he led them out of reach of the apparition wards and deposed them at platform nine and three-quartes. Sidelong apparition was still horrible. It was extremely useful, though. The masses of muggles bustling about outside the secured area at Kings Cross were a little disconcerting, like a very strange tide, and their trains looked odd. Not that it wasn’t entertaining and interesting, but that was only if you could afford to be entertained, if you were on your own, perhaps with friends, and could just look and move freely or stay out of the way. Certainly not if you had a paranoid, plain dangerous uncle around, watching you and your friend like a wyvern.

Vi was certain she’d never in her life been so glad to see the scarlet steam engine of the Hogwarts Express. They were fairly early, over half an hour to spare, but Vi had no compunction at all about losing her uncle as fast as possible in the starting bustle of parents and students. They needed to find Edie anyway, and hole up properly; she didn’t fancy a visit from Fina later.

Even obscured and with their luggage shrunk in their pockets it was bloody hard to navigate the corridor without being run into and noticed. Not to mention find Edie while they were at it. And when they did find her it was oddly awkward, with Edie silent in a way that was both wary and miserable. She only glanced up when they at last found her in an already-obscured compartment, took a deep breath and closed her eyes, leaning back. With her looking so exhausted and ill they couldn’t very well just bug her about it, either. She also looked angry, which wasn’t just odd, it was downright wrong because Edie didn’t get angry, as a rule. Annoyed, perhaps, impatient, to varying degrees, but not this kind of angry.

But with the way she was actively ignoring them now, there was really no doubt. She also put her backpack up on the seat beside her, making a clear statement she didn’t care for their usual treatment of simply creeping as close as possible and resting as a big heap of mixed-up limbs. Vi looked at Riko with some trepidation, but her friend seemed equally stalled and dismayed. So they sat down quietly and Vi, although oddly tense of a sudden, was glad to take her backpack from Riko. Morgana’s bloody pisspot, her father and his ideas on proper and improper manners. Riko looked uncomfortably at Edie but then busied herself, writing a note to Amy with their whereabouts. Vi rose to let Korra out the window, closing it again quickly to keep their ill friend from being subjected to more noise and smells from the outside than necessary. Edie kept on ignoring them.

Vi was tired, and from the looks of it Riko was too, eyes drooping long before the train started with a lurch, so they just leaned back. Vi actually dozed off, despite Edie’s occasional glare in their direction. Riko was again a warm weight at her side, and they were safe now, in here.

Waking up from one of her wards going off was never a good thing, so there was really no reason for anyone to look at her like that. She’d just jerked to her feet, wand at the ready before even aware of her surroundings, it was a simple reflex, really. At least they didn’t say a thing, not Amy, who had just entered, triggering it, nor Edie, who was markedly friendlier to their new arrival. Vi had a sinking suspicion on the reason for that. Riko seemed determined to keep quiet about it for now, ignoring it all by thanking Amy profusely. For a box. Oh, right, Riko had said, well, as good as, she’d left her fangs there, and who knew what other incriminating things. Vi sat back down, exhaustion creeping back in after the first adrenaline shock of waking.

Amy didn’t seem very impressed with Riko’s thanks. “Harry wrote and asked if I knew anyone called Oma,” she said, crossing her arms. “He said you talked.. on the 13th. In Diagon Alley.”

Except a short, hesitant glance at Edie at the mention of the date, Amy was staring at Riko in a way that closely resembled McGonagall. Riko flinched, almost imperceptibly, then leaned back with a groan, biting her tongue to, if Vi was correct, not curse at Potter right here and now.

“I saw him there and I was curious. He looked like he’d moved in at Fortescue’s, and he still wanted to know what I’d wanted with Ginny and we both managed to be civil, it was the strangest thing. And then Will arrived and he.. saw the letter, s’all. I didn’t.. I wouldn’t.. Edie..”

But Edie remained silent, though she managed to look even more accusing than before.

Amy didn’t let up either. “Why were you even at Diagon, I thought you were going to stay in Japan with your family before visiting Edie’s.”

This time, the flinch was stronger; Vi would’ve noticed even if she hadn’t spent the last two weeks watching every little twitch of her friend. Which meant Amy and Edie had to notice, too.

“I wanted to get some stuff before that, y’know..” Riko bit her lip, then, not finishing the same statement she’d given Vi, or rather Vi’s family. Vi could actually see her mentally take a step back and decide, and it was uncomfortably similar to watching a terrible accident.

“There’s something I wanted to tell all of you for a while, it’s part of that, alright. I was back in Diagon on the first, I had other things to buy, beside school stuff, alright, I’ll tell you, I will, just.. could we do it tomorrow, please, ’cause it’ll.. it’d be better.”

Riko had kept her eyes stubbornly on Amy, a begging expression on her face, clearly miserable. She didn’t see Edie dangerously narrow her eyes and damn, she was making a mess of it without meaning to, without even seeming to realize just what she was doing.

“It really would be better, tomorrow,” Vi confirmed, to explain Riko hadn’t meant it like that.

The way her white-haired friend jerked to stare, first at her then at Edie, realization dawning at last, was telling enough, Vi thought. She wasn’t sure if Edie saw, or understood, though. Her golden eyes were now boring into Vi, narrowed in a sharp anger that was completely foreign. It took her a moment to realize what she’d just implied. Riko looked as shocked as Vi felt and quickly tried to reassure and appease.

“Ah, no! Nonono, Edie, Amy, Vi doesn’t know either, alright, I swear. Edie, you know I’m not lying. It’s just.. it’s not actively terrible, but it’ll be better if we can talk about it in a.. proper place, alright, not a bloody compartment in a train stuffed full of people. S’bad if one wants some calm and quiet, y’know, and then someone might try and jump off the train, and that’s dangerous and..”

With Riko descending into helpless rambling, Vi jumped in again, trying to be the voice of reason here. Those three, once they got into something, could be as reasonable as a launched hex.

“Look at it this way, we’re essentially in a siege-situation here, that’s a fact, and I’m not saying you’re out of commission or anything, Edie, but it’d probably be better for everyone if you weren’t quite as done in when Riko tells us her big secret, alright? Let’s just be reasonable about this, right, Amy? I mean, Edie, you can still tell if she’s lying tomorrow..”

“I can also tell now,” Edie grit out, “cause there’s a thing I really want to know, right now. See, someone’s been smoking behind our main stable. You wouldn’t happen to know anything ’bout that, would you? Cause I had to overhear my parents worry about it, thinking I wouldn’t hear them in the kitchen, today, when I woke up! And I can still smell it, practically since I changed back even..”

Oh bloody shit and damn it all, echoed through Vi’s head at the outburst. Edie was clearly livid, but she also looked hurt, and also terrible, as if she’d keel over any second. Merde alors and bloody fuck, everything they’d been trying to avoid. Amy of course got it while Edie was still talking, eyes going wide with shock, then narrowing with obvious Gryff anger. Fucking bloody thrice-damned _shit_ _e_. And the silence, Riko going just as completely still beside her as Vi did, yeah, that was obvious enough. Vi swallowed.

“Yeah, I know about it,” Riko’s voice shook, but her friend raised her chin and went on, seemingly determined to run headlong into the waiting swords. “I’m sorry your parents found the stubs, but I’m not sorry I was there, Edie, you didn’t see it, you wouldn’t even _be_ here, it was insane..”

Vi almost sighed at her friend’s attempt to hog the blame, almost rolled her eyes, and almost resented her for acting as if Vi couldn’t take care of herself, couldn’t deal with shit on her own. She crossed her arms, then forced herself to loosen them again and punched Riko in the arm.

“Shut up, Riko. Edie, seriously, it was a freaking horror show. I’m sorry too, but not about helping you remain in one piece, and I sure as fuck wasn’t going to let Riko go off on her own.”

She _hadn’t_ said ‘again’, but of course she needn’t have, none of them were idiots, at least not in that way. There was a moment of very uncomfortable silence, where they could all see Riko flinch, her gulp very audible. Edie narrowed her eyes even further at her, then.

“Back in Diagon at the first,” she said, quietly, in a tone of dawning realization – and terrible hurt.

“Edie.. please.. it was fourteen hours,” Riko sounded scared now, and Vi could understand that, because Edie looked positively dead, sickly pale, barely breathing. She was also clearly keeping herself from crying only by the skin of her teeth, and she looked so betrayed, merde..

“Tomorrow,” Edie whispered, after taking a scarily slow breath through her mouth, teeth clenched.

This time, Riko didn’t flinch, she only nodded once and went very still. Vi could feel her friends every muscle lock up against her side, saw her stare down at her hands, not-clutching her knees. Edie leaned back in her seat, drawing her hood down. Amy threw them all a frantic look, reproachful and sympathetic, but she was clearly unsure what to do. Didn’t seem there was anything to be done right now. Vi tried looking apologetic and shrugged lightly with the side not pressed against a seemingly petrified Riko. After chewing her lip for a moment Amy gave her a nod, told them what compartment she was in and left.

Beside her Riko was clearly trying to breathe and only breathe, as inoffensively and regularly as possible. Vi kept glancing sideways because it was worrying, alright, but at least she wasn’t doing that glacial calm and zero awareness thing again, like after that damn chamber last year. It took far too long for Vi’s comfort, before Riko started to loosen up even a little, started leaning back against her side, but she did. Vi herself only managed to doze off after being absolutely sure Riko had fallen asleep already, and did so to the sound of her friend’s now-relaxed breathing.

She jerked awake sometime round noon to Riko stirring groggily against her side. Edie was still fast asleep, and they spent a few minutes staring sadly at their friend, slumped against the window in a way that looked very uncomfortable. They didn’t dare wake her, though. Vi dug out their sandwiches after checking her watch. Clearly she had to take the lead here, with those two overwrought lumps not up to it. The day really couldn’t get worse, she was sure. Even the weather seemed to have adapted to their drama, a cold drizzle turning the window a solid grey. When she held over a sandwich, Riko stared at it bleakly for much longer than necessary, but she did eat it and even managed a silent thanks when Vi held out her bottle of tea. Then they dozed off again, because there was really nothing else to be done without disturbing Edie.

Next, Vi came awake with a worrying jolt, to darkness. Wind roared and rain hammered against the window to her left. The train wasn’t moving. She heard people moving around in the corridor and Riko’s eyes were glowing Demon Eyes red beside her. It was very cold.

Vi shook out her wand and cast her own charm for night-vision. Now she could see Riko had her wand out, too, as did Edie, who was looking around in worry. Both were shivering. It was getting steadily colder, so much that Vi almost expected to see their frozen breath hanging in the air. As bad as Edie was looking, it wasn’t much different to earlier, whereas Riko had really no business shivering like she had the kneazle pox. Clearly none of them knew what was going on. The sounds in the corridor were completely gone, and that had Vi worried most of all. Even more than the light gone and that freakish cold.

“I have a really bad feeling about this,” she said, on principle, while edging towards the door.

Then she heard the train doors opening, but beyond the storm there were no other sounds.

Vi wasn’t sure if she imagined it, but she thought it was getting even colder than before, and the dark at the edge of her range of vision seemed to move. Oh, this was so bad, whatever it was. Their compartment was hidden, right, but she was going to ward the shit out of that door, right now.

Behind her Riko suddenly gave an inarticulate whimper and fell down to her knees with a thump. Her friend had her eyes squeezed shut, tan skin paled to grey and hardly breathing at all in a way that sounded sharply, like disjointed sobs. Vi didn’t wait any longer. First a solid mix of locking charms, then she drew out stacking lines from one side of the door to the other, pouring in and anchoring ward after ward, linking the layers back so she could adapt them if need be. One glance at Edie’s pale, serious face and wide eyes had told her enough; the Ravenclaw was going to try and help Riko despite looking a step from collapsing, herself. Vi didn’t need to look back to know that wasn’t going well, she could practically feel the air around her freeze, cackle with static, thicken like.. that smell.. no..

She almost dropped her wand, shivering herself by now. What stopped her was the sudden movement of their compartment door, opening after a short struggle that her locking charms lost far too quickly.

It yanked her back to the present, to the freezing cold and Edie’s frantic voice behind her. She didn’t dare turn though, and not just because of the distorted shreds of memories trying to replace reality around her. No, Vi stood, wand at the ready, because what she saw, damn, she hadn’t wanted to be right.

A dementor, Morgana’s bloody bowl, fucking shite. She’d never seen one, a real one, but what else could it be?

Impossibly tall, cloaked figure, face hidden in the cowl, no feet to be seen, and oh crap, yeah, definitely dementor. No living thing would have a hand like that, glistening in a pale slimy grey, like it’d decayed in water only with scabs on it, so thin it was almost skeletal. Vi felt sick. The limb was only visible for a moment and she almost puked, though that was mostly from pure shock.

But now the door was open, and even with the hand no longer visible that was a _dementor_ , looking in, well, moving it’s cowl as if it was looking, and trying to get the fuck _in_.

Vi knew, objectively, they were sucking more than just air when they breathed, but the actual _sound_ of it, the long, slow, rattling breaths were just insanely loud, almost like the last breaths of.. merde, non..

A sharp pain cut across her hand, the backlash of her first ward line: snapped.

Vi hissed in a breath of her own, falling into quicktime. She had to stay in the here and now, fuck.. she managed to focus on the second line, pouring in the idea, the element, of fire, if a shield didn’t work..

It flared up, the second line, like a fabric made of pure heat, and the edge of the figure’s cloak that drifted against it curled up into smoke. But there was that awful hand again, with rotten-dead nails to fit, and suddenly it was pouring back into her, like she’d been hit with a melting curse, bloody shite..

Vi tried to hold it up, she really did, but something snapped, with a sharp pain in her inner ear and the sound of broken glass, and she could only retreat a foot or so, or she’d be away too far for the ward links, and wasn’t there, it was damn hard to think of even the _idea_ of light, but Amy’d said..

Then, suddenly, there _was_ light, impossibly bright and silvery, advancing from the left, out in the corridor.

The Dementor moved away from it, retreating, and Vi was damn glad for that, because the light was blinding her badly and she had to blink, clear her eyes from her night-vision, to see..

She drew a shaking breath, looking down at her ward-lines. Two were still ready and engaged, buzzing sharply against her senses when she tested the links. Merlin, Morgana, and a bloody horse!

As she relearned breathing, the light moved along the corridor, after the Dementor. Even so Vi recognized the shape approaching from the left as human. A wizard, carrying a handful of fire, friendfire then, his wand out and ready.

It wasn’t that she wasn’t extremely grateful, but Vi stayed ready for anything, couldn’t imagine not doing so.

The way he moved implied great exhaustion but also a wary alertness. As he drew close she could see his rather shabby robes, darned in several places, and although he looked rather young his light-brown hair was flecked with grey. He also looked ill, not simply exhausted, and he was eyeing her just as warily as she him. Then he looked behind her and.. stared. The quiet behind her hadn’t disturbed her before this, but now Vi had to look.

Keeping her wand up, only shifting slightly to glance over her shoulder, Vi didn’t think there was a reason to stare, really. Yes, Riko was still on all four but she was breathing deeply, sitting back up on her knees, clearly she was going to be alright. She was barely shaking any more. Edie didn’t look that bad either, sitting beside her.

Then, however, she suddenly did turn worse. From one moment to the next, just from.. noticing at that _man!_

Edie gave an inarticulate whimper of fright, curling away as if to crawl backwards through the wall. They were both clearly not quite there yet, but Riko’s reaction was the direct opposite. She gave a sharp snarl, like a feral dog, shifting and drawing an arm back against Edie as if to shield her. And if looks could kill, well, then Vi wouldn’t have the dubious honour of standing between her two insane friends and who- or what-ever that man was. He’d narrowed his eyes at Riko’s growl, but after a moment of ringing silence, keeping himself remarkably still, offered only a nod

“Is everything alright here,” he said in a careful, even voice that was very hoarse.

It was a very calm voice, too, whatever was wrong with his throat and.. oh.. Vi knew, well, had a _very_ solid guess, then, why he’d freak out Edie like that. He looked like death warmed over, alright, and even in the flickering light she could see his eyes were a very bright amber, gold almost.

Vi cleared her throat, because he was still staring past her, and when that wasn’t enough she shifted so she was still linked into her wards but also in the way of any further staring. This was the first, well, first _known_ werewolf she’d seen properly, who wasn’t Edie, and Vi was uncomfortably aware just how he was so hoarse. She’d seen – and heard – it often enough with her friend, and she didn’t care to imagine that for any person, but there he was, and what was he even doing here, on the Hogwarts Express, which was usually reserved for the students?

He raised his eyebrows when she stepped in his way like that and Vi thanked all the fates for having her quicktime, because otherwise she might still be standing and gaping. She nodded curtly.

“We’ll be alright, it didn’t get in and you should probably go,” after a pointed moment of silence during which he didn’t move she added, “to make sure everyone else is alright, too.”

Of course she didn’t have any pure silver on her, with Edie being Edie, but if he made any sort of trouble she’d link in an Argentissimo and go from there. Her wand was warm in her hand and with the damn dementor gone she was well enough to keep up some damn wards and, if necessary, then-some..

But the werewolf didn’t seem inclined. He gave another nod, still staring as if trying to figure something out, and turned away. He paused, throwing a strange comment over his shoulder, but he strolled off, after his silver light. Fuck, it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds, bloody shit, her hands really should stop twitching..

Vi slid the compartment door closed, locked it with a simple Oraholamo, put a Scutum Strepiti in the linked line, and stepped back with a sigh. The lights flickered back on. Just to be sure, she put another, more serious, locking charm on the door and turned to eye her friends.

“Chocolate helps,” he’d said.

They both looked pathetic: exhausted, pale, and miserable. When she went to help them up they both had cold, clammy hands. They were also both not looking at each other, instead studying the floor like it was the most interesting thing on earth. Another sigh escaped her.

“Right, we got chocolate here? And can you please suck it up at least until we’re at the castle?”

At least that got her a reaction. Almost comical, how they both looked up at her at her tone, eyes flying to her hands on her hips, and knew she meant business. Positively cute how they both looked down, then up again, then away to the side, embarrassed.

“I think I have some in my bag, Kean put something in, left side,” Edie’s quiet, hoarse voice was steady but her hands were still trembling so Vi nodded and went over to open it, digging out a handful of chocolate frogs.

“I’m really sorry, Edie, I didn’t mean to, I mean, I.. we just.. and he..”

Vi had never heard Riko sound quite so miserable and helpless, and was glad she didn’t have to see her right then.

“Of course,” Edie sighed, sounding terribly tired. “But you did, and my parents are still worrying about the stubs and garbage, even if they don’t know how recent they are, and I told you, alright, I told you..” she sighed again, taking the frog Vi gave her, then added, “Eat your chocolate frog, Riko.”

The train started. Riko ate her frog, silent. So did Edie. Vi sighed again, took a frog of her own and sat beside her, between them and the door. Frogs finished, they leaned back. Nobody mentioned what cards they had, but Edie didn’t seem to mind Vi sitting close, leaning against her. She was even leaning a little against Riko, drawing Vi along. It wasn’t more than ten minutes before the train stopped again, this time at the platform proper but Vi wouldn’t have minded if it’d taken much longer.

*

Edie _knew_ it made her weak, was pathetic, sitting with them like that when they had.. and when she wasn’t just supposed to be but really _was_ thoroughly mad at them but.. ugh.. She just couldn’t _not_ , right now. Didn’t have the energy, just didn’t have it in her to keep pushing them away, and when she didn’t they always snuck up to try and help, _help,_ verdammte Scheisse..

And there came a new, fresh stab of shame then, because they _had_ helped, damnit, and not just Vi right now, even Riko with her crazy growling, and if she admitted _that_ , then she had to be honest and admit she’d been so _scared_ of yesterday’s moon. She _knew_ , alright, how upset carried over, she knew perfectly damn well, the stupid scar on her knee from last year was still visible, if only barely now. She hadn’t wanted to know just how bad it could, just how bad it _would_ get, had tried her damnest not to even think on it. There was nothing to be done.

But then, waking up, feeling hardly worse than the moon before, which had been freaky if in a good way.. well, she was freaking miserable, every sense trying its best to be the one to do her in, but that didn’t mean she was freaking _stupid_. There was simply _no_ _way_ , this wasn’t something you could attribute to good luck, to Fritz being brilliant, to just being calm and alright enough, hah, just the _idea_ of that! And then hearing her parents talk about those damn stubs, verdammt, it was just too much, alright.

Because Edie _wanted_ to be mad, to rage at Riko – and Vi, although she knew her friend couldn’t have stopped Riko, and she certainly couldn’t ’ve let her go alone, fine - but she didn’t _want_ to understand, she wanted to be angry, for _once_ , because she’d said not to, and she wasn’t some weak victim or stupid patient who didn’t know what they needed, she didn’t need to be kept safe, shit, and left out of decicisions on _her_ own matters and..argh!

She’d been mostly fine stewing in silence, even if she was still miserable, even with the hoodie (the one Riko had given her in first year, fuck, before she’d even known, but not last year, last year had been a ‘normal’ gift), fucking bloody shit.. even with _her_ hood pulled down and scarf up, she’d been _fine_ being pissed about Riko dragging everything and everyone into chaos and doom, and Vi dozing with her over there, and it was just bloody fucking _unfair_ , it _was_ , and she’d been doing _perfectly fine_ , not worrying how half a stupid night could have them so exhausted they managed to sleep through the entire day, shit, she’d been doing perfectly fine being mad and then..

Yeah, then there was _that_ , whatever it even was..

So, no, it didn’t seem quite as pathetic, just for a moment, to sit between those two _insistent helpers_ and rest up for just a little while. Enjoy Vi’s steady warmth and Riko breathing right beside her, not pathetic at all, to feel better for all of them being alive and here.

That’d been the godsdamned _worst_ she could remember feeling, ever, like every instance of helpless and alone and failure and scared and hollow and cold, so freaking cold, all rolled into one; it’d felt like she was freezing up from the inside, empty and hollow and torn and dead. And then Riko had just collapsed and that had made a crack, a horrible, painful one, but it’d been a crack in that bleak.. inward spiral, whatever, and Edie’d seen, and heard, and smelled and everything, her stupid hyperactive senses had given her the full everything of Riko collapsing, her erratic, insufficient breathing, like she was drowning, pale as a ghost, and she’d looked so _scared_..

Riko never panicked, Edie had never seen her friend like that, never, not with any of the guardians, not in the Forbidden Forest against Quirrelmort, or the spiders, not even when they’d found that dead basilisk. Yes, she’d been in shock then, and exhausted, but she’d been functioning, somehow. This was Riko not even getting _there_ , and that, that had, well, yes, scared her, freaked her out - but it meant Riko couldn’t help even herself, never mind with whatever was going on, and _that_ meant _Edie_ had to do this, on her own, well, with Vi, fates be thanked, because after that horrible wash of cold-alone-broken she knew that if it were on _her_ it’d never end well..

But Vi was there, and they just had to make sure Riko was alright, it was just like last year in that chamber, and Edie could handle that, even if Riko had curled up on her knees and Edie could hear her friend’s heart going so fast it seemed to drown out even her own racing pulse, and those erratic gasps weren’t going to do any good for air, and she was _whimpering_.. Mary, Morgana, and Tesla! She didn’t react to her name nor at all, and she was so _cold!_ Edie almost thought there should be mist rising off her, flaming Loki and his snake and wolf and bloody _horse!_

It was a stupid idea, had to be, but it was the only thing that came to mind, so Edie cast the first simple warming charm that popped into her head, then a Levatio, and then an Antheraliptis, all the while shaking her friend, calling her, trying to get her to show any reaction at all. And it actually seemed to help, at least a little, and a good thing too, because by then Edie was having a hard time not curling up and whimpering herself, it was so damn cold, and the painful emptiness she’d felt since Oma flared up, like a shard of ice lodged in her heart, cutting and freezing her.. and then the dark on the edges of her vision was moving, and over the sound of Riko’s erratic breathing she thought she heard snarling and screaming.

Edie grit her teeth, blocking it all out and focussing on her friend, and the miserable state she was in, and what on earth she could do to _help_. At least she was breathing now, even if it was still erratic and shot through with whimpers. But that faded too, and although it was painful to look at, Edie was immensely glad when Riko’s jaw clenched in her usual stubborn manner, and the grating of teeth being ground was still a vast improvement to the helpless whimpers. Her friend was breathing better too, and even if she was staring fixedly downwards, her eyes were open.

Edie felt weak with relief then, her limbs suddenly heavy, as if recalling just how damn exhausted she still was. The cold didn’t fade exactly, but it didn’t cut as sharply now, the dark didn’t move on it’s own any more, and what sounds she could hear around them were normal, like the storm outside, like.. steps coming towards them.

Looking up, Edie had to narrow her eyes against the reflections of light coming from the corridor, she had to make sure Vi was alright, too, and then, well, she wasn’t exactly proud of that.. actually wanted to curl up somewhere and hide in shame, possibly for the rest of her life.

But of course that wouldn’t work, and since death by embarrassment didn’t seem to work she’d just have to brazen it out somehow. Be rational about it, that was it, rational, that was her, after all. It’d simply been too much at a very bad time, bad chain of events, that was it.

Just seconds after she’d done her best to ignore her nightmares trying to come back up in this fucking compartment, and there he bloody was, in the fucking flesh, staring at her, bright gleaming eyesand all - and instinct was a stupid thing that Edie hated often enough, but that didn’t mean she could always fight it, damned, blasted shit.

So she’d flinched back on complete instinct, and the towering wave of fright that seemed to have just lurked around the damn corner used its chance then, jumping in, and it was the absolute _worst_ , to have her body act on its bloody own, without her say-so, she was so damn _done_ with not being in control of at least _herself_.. and then the mindless rage behind Riko’s insane growl had barrelled into her, had rolled through her like one of those deep gong sounds of Gloria the unreasonable gryffin, yes, fine, so it was absurd, but it had also brought a flash of shaky relief, of not-alone, insane as that seemed. (and no, she did not want to think of the how-and-why on it. no.)

And, yes, she’d no longer been able to actually _feel_ those glowing sharp eyes on her then, letting her draw some determined breath. But with that had also come the cold shock of reason, of _thinking_ , and _that_ only made it worse. Because now, hyperactive senses egging them on, her instincts and her mind were agreeing on just how horrible absolutely _everything_ about this insane situation was.

So he wasn’t looking at her any more, great, but Edie could still hear, smell, _sense_ that.. _other_ , right _there_ , and it freaked her out on a purely instinctual level, set her teeth on edge and made the hair on her neck prick up, and _that_ freaked her out in a completely mental way because she was _not_ a wolf, but that didn’t stop some inner voice screaming intruder, threat, danger. And with her lack of knowledge about that man, and given how disturbing this entire situation had been so far, her head couldn’t exactly disagree, couldn’t rationalize, fuck, she was really the most useless nutcase ever, how could she pretend to be rational, to be alright, if this was what it came down to, cowering in fright while Vi held the door and sent that wolf/threat/man away, how..

Edie took a deep breath, interrupting her useless brooding when she felt friends on either side shift ever so slightly, trying to eye her sideways with obvious worry. Blushing furiously and pointedly looking down she took a couple more of those measured breaths and tried to relax at least a little. It was depressingly easy, with those two on either side, and she let out an exhausted sigh, leaning back.

Then the train slowed again, and then stopped. But now Edie could see the outlines of the platform before they rolled into the area of the lanterns and their light stabbed into her eyes, making her blink and squint. There was again the announcement to leave the luggage on the train and only then Edie realized none of them had changed into their school robes yet. Judging from from her aggravated sigh, Vi did too, just then. Riko didn’t look up at all while strapping her fangs to their usual places.

After they’d all hurriedly pulled their school robes over their clothes, none of them willing to discard the least bit of warmth, they were at the rear of the throng crowding on the tiny platform. Hagrid was nowhere to be seen, so he must’ve already made off with the first-years across the lake. With the current miserable weather Edie didn’t envy them. It was freezing and the rain was driving down in icy sheets, making them huddle together. It wasn’t the terrifying cold she’d felt on the train, and she still hadn’t asked what exactly had happened there, but with how hard it was to get, never mind _stay_ warm after the full moon, this was already plenty bad.

Even with her many layers Edie was guiltily grateful for her friends crowding so close, shielding her from the weather as good as they could. As annoying as it was to have such a mass of shuffling people in the way and before them, at least she didn’t have to hear and smell them all around her, so there was that too.

“What was that even, back there?” Edie asked as they slowly moved forward, staring resignedly at the sea of black robes in front of them.

For a moment there was only the sound of the howling wind and the shuffling in front of them. Riko was shifting against her side and Edie realized with some annoyance her friend might think, and be unhappy about, Edie talking about her weird seizure. As if Edie would discuss that out in the open, now, like that. As if Edie was going to let it go either way, it was right up there on the list with whatever Riko ‘had wanted to tell them for a while now’.

Then Vi jumped in, being all reasonable, and Edie was torn between being annoyed at that, too, and being grateful for it. Considering how miserable she currently was, it wasn’t terribly surprising annoyance stayed, even while traces of appreciation refused to give in and just disappear.

“Dementor,” Vi said, succinct as always.

“A dementor tried to get in,” Edie repeated, shocked and suddenly feeling much colder than just a moment before.

She must’ve sounded as faint as she felt, because again she could feel them shift and eye her sideways with worry, but really, Edie couldn’t see how they could be so _calm_ about it. What.. _nothing_ about a dementor trying to get into their compartment, about even one being on the train, made any sort sense..

“Guess they’re still looking for Black,” Vi said, sounding entirely too composed, if thoroughly displeased, about what must’ve been a _bunch_ of soul-sucking bloody freaking _dementors_ , stopping and entering their train, and without any sort of warning!

“Dunno what it wanted with _us_ , but hey, who knows anything about them..” Vi grumbled, shuddering in a fresh gust of wind as they at last reached the rough, now muddy, track to where the stagecoaches would be waiting.

Riko shifted again, shivering as well, although with her Edie wasn’t sure it was from the wind. “Well, we were hidden, ne, and the.. Folk and dementors, they’re like, I dunno.. vinegar and bleach? They just completely hate each other, the Folk eradicate them where they find’em and the dementors seem to have a real.. appetite, I guess, for them.. probably wanted to get to the treat..”

She sounded oddly removed, almost like end of last year, after they’d found the basilisk, and was staring fixedly ahead, not even paying attention to the path. When the silence stretched she looked over sideways, though, and caught Edie’s look, her best serious what-even one. At least that still did the trick. Even if Riko then hurriedly looked away, she was now keeping her eyes on the ground.

“Eli.. a teacher told me, she’s a bard, more or less, and she said when one of those damn.. of that sort is anywhere near, to leg it like the furies are behind you, and not to use any magic of that sort, or they’ll never let you be. We were guests in a village where she’d got rid of one of them, it’d pretty much settled there after a bad winter and, yeah.. nasty shit.. from the stories it was a mean fight even with her having some backup and a plan, but those were all more or less muggles..”

Riko shrugged again and then kept quietly staring at the ground. This time it was who Edie shivered at the idea of being targeted for a simple Obscurantis her Mum had put up this morning. What if that Dementor would try to follow them further? If they never let you be, would it come back? Could it really follow them, even into Hogwarts? Surely it couldn’t get into Hogwarts, right, the.. one of the guardians would stop it, surely..?

Edie shuddered again and hugged herself. Their trudging had let them fall back further and when they came to the coaches, they veered off to the side, where there wasn’t still dozens of people milling and grumbling while trying to sort with whom to share a coach. Honestly, with the weather as it was, Edie would’ve thought everyone just wanted to get into the castle. But no, a gaggle of upper years had used Impervious, and ugh, why hadn’t they thought of that? Vi and Riko must really be beside themselves..

Edie looked around despondently, then headed them to a coach that was almost hidden in the dark, a little behind the others and.. oh..right.

She couldn’t exactly say she was surprised, but it was again like a punch in the gut, a sharp cold stabbing into her chest, to see the thestrals. There weren’t that many creatures who would be invisible and peacefully pull coaches, and they were pretty, in a slightly strange sort of way. But all it did today was bring back the cold clawing all through her, setting her to huddle further into herself. Riko, in contrast, seemed to relax on her side, shoulders not pulled quite as tight any more. She was still pressing her side a little against Edie, but now it was clearly easier for her to calm and reassure and it actually worked. Well, a little, at least. Edie did feel a bit better, not quite as miserable.

Then Riko smiled at the thestrals.

The one on their side of the coach raised its head and snorted lightly and Riko relaxed even further and with another small smile lightly touched her hand against its snout as they passed, gently trailed it along its side and down its leg. Edie could only stare, completely floored, yet fucking again. Suddenly she wasn’t feeling cold any more, no, she had to ball her fists in her pockets to not sock Riko one for.. for treating them like.. like that! And seeing them! And..

She looked over to Vi, for her friend’s reaction, expecting some acknowledgement of the sheer madness here, or at least some hint on how to handle this, because Edie knew why _she_ could see it, now, after Oma had.. but this..

But Vi.. didn’t look surprised at all.

That was one thing. She was also watching Riko in that oblique yet attentive way, like she was both watchful of and for her friend. Edie didn’t have to guess she’d never asked about it, just noted it. That was the other thing. Always taking note, not letting on, just.. collecting pieces. Hufflepuff patience, a bitter voice snarked in the back of her head.

The thestral tossed it’s head and Vi stepped around Edie, who was still frozen in place.

“Oi, Riko, come on, leave off and lets get inside the castle, eh.”

Edie wanted to bash her in the head. Because clearly, _clearly_ , and that was just one _more_ thing, her so-called friend had not only known all along, she was able to see them herself, _and_ hadn’t said a word, not _ever!_ Riko was still being freakishly relaxed and only looked over her shoulder at Vi to nod, then turned to give a quick apology to the thestral. To the bloody _thestral_. Only then did she turn to them with a sheepish smile.

“Sorry, didn’t mean t’hold y’up, just, s’real nice seein’ something tall and dark that’s alive and nice and all..”

Then she shrugged, clearly ready to just move on. Like she hadn’t just.. it wasn’t that Edie hated or even disliked thestrals, that stuff about them being bad omens was all bullshit and she knew her parents had treated them before. But you couldn’t just.. you didn’t just..

“Those are thestrals,” Edie ground out, a persistent hammering settling in her head and driving her even more mad than she was already.

“Oh, wicked, good t’know,” Riko said unconcernedly and Edie wanted to shake her to stop her from talking on but she didn’t because if she started..

“I’ve been meaning to ask Hagrid but, well,” Riko shrugged, waving vaguely before continuing. “Anyway, suits ’em.. all night and wind and sky.. oi, y’alright Edie? Only, I thought some air’d be nice, but I s’ppose we’d better get you to th’castle to warm and dry properly?”

She was looking increasingly unsure, and still clueless. Riko clueless, of _course!_ Edie took a deep breath and she wasn’t quite sure _what_ she was going to say, but she wasn’t going to stop for Vi’s suddenly concerned look, that was for certain..

“Yes, you should probably get into the coach,” a dry, hoarse voice stated from behind them, completely disrupting absolutely everything, adding after a moment with a drily raised eyebrow, “I made sure everyone else is alright, too.”

Edie wasn’t sure what exactly made Vi level that very unimpressed look at that.. man, just a man, even if he was a werewolf he was still a man. Edie didn’t feel unimpressed at all, in fact it felt more like her heart was trying to climb up through her throat. At least her friends had whirled around with her and were a solid wall of ready in front of her, between her and that.. she drew herself up and looked him straight in the eye. She was not going to keep curling up like a scared pup, and as much as she appreciated their support right now, she’d be the one to deal with it because she _could_ and she wasn’t some weak little victim, bloody verdammte Scheisse.

“Of course,” she said curtly and then, despite her skin crawling with no _no_ No _NO_ she turned her back and stalked to the coach.

Riko scrambled to get in front of her and wrenched the door open to climb in first. While she held the door open for Edie, even offering a hand up, like.. like a body guard who’d check it was safe, _oh_ _honestly_ , she let Edie see the handle of her fang cupped in the palm of her left hand. Edie knew the blade was now hidden along Riko’s inner arm, under at least three layers of sleeves, and when she sat beside her Edie also knew her friend was gripping the ring at the end of the handle in a not quite clenched fist, just from the way her arms and hands were resting. It probably shouldn’t have made her feel better, but it did, even if it didn’t get rid of the coiled, jittery anger in her guts.

Vi climbed in with her wand out, and held it across her legs in a way that was very clearly not relaxed at all. Not that it wasn’t understandable or appreciated because the.. the man climbed in after her, settling with a tired sigh in the lumpy seats across them. Even with her friends guarding her from both sides, or perhaps because of it, Edie was starting to feel extremely claustrophobic. The thick smells of mould and straw didn’t manage to drown out the sharp scent of _other, threat,_ of _wolf_ and _danger_ from the man, not to mention Edie was starting to be increasingly scared of what her friends might get up to to if they felt they had to defend her. The carriage started with a lurch but none of the passengers moved an inch, all of them tense in their seats.

“I’m Professor Lupin,” the man said, his voice hoarse but solid in the uncomfortable silence, and it must’ve been painful to make himself heard over the squeaks and rattling of the coach, and the continuing storm and rain outside.

He also looked about as bad as she felt, and his robes were thin and threadbare, barely fit for the weather. Edie didn’t look away from him to check how Vi and Riko took any of that. She wasn’t going to let him out of her sight, and she wasn’t going to back down by looking away, and besides she had a good idea what she’d see, just from their stony silence. A stubborn resistance to making absolutely any comment, set to give absolutely nothing away. There was a number of things they might’ve thought fun to point out, to comment on or poke at warily, at any other time. His post as Defence-teacher invited it, his name too, but they’d all tell him _something_ and he was clearly fishing, so of course they’d refuse. Edie wanted to sigh.

“That’s good to know,” she said, and bloody _fuck_ it really did hurt like a grater in her damn throat.

At least it didn’t collide with her stupid heart which was still trying in irregular intervals to jump out. Edie took a shallow breath through her nose after drawing her scarf up just enough to block most of the smells from around her. She didn’t think she’d flinched, but for some reason she got an apologetic squeeze from a leg to her left and Vi’s upper arm to her right.

And suddenly Edie didn’t want to watch Professor Lupin watch her with that measuring, fucking inquisitive look. She looked out the window, hoping for continued silence now that it was clear none of them would be offering their names or any other conversation. They were already going past the fork in the road where a left turn would take you to Hogsmeade.

“I notice you are all in different houses,” the.. Professor Lupin said, and annoyed as she was at his insistence, Edie had to respect his refusal to give into his hurt throat. She resigned herself to answering, both because she sort of owed him that, right, for sheer perseverance, and also because she wasn’t going to be outdone by him, damnit, she could ignore her damn throat just as well.. but Vi jumped in.

“That _is_ the point of Hogwarts, isn’t it,” she said stonily, “different people coming together and all.”

Edie didn’t catch his reaction to that, because suddenly it was terribly, sharply cold everywhere and inside her and the dark on the edge of her vision was again bulging in threatening shapes. She looked out and saw two awfully distinctive figures hovering by the great wrought-iron gates, one by each stone column.

Despite the usually so entertaining winged boars on their tips it suddenly felt like passing the entrance to a prison, and she’d never actually thought about how inimical wrought iron was, and curse it.. she couldn’t stop a shiver but at least she caught herself and settled into a huddle, arms crossed, stuffing her freezing hands under her arm pits.

To her left Riko had gone entirely still, but when Edie looked over sideways, her friend was staring balefully at Lupin, as if to make sure he didn’t get up to anything, jaw locked tight and taking very shallow, slow breaths. Vi was a locked and loaded tension to her right, but Edie had the impression she was far more in control than Riko, just from how lightly, how carefully she held her wand. Riko’s cramped stillness made her worry any sort of surprise might lead to purely instinctual stabbing.

Edie resolutely fixed her eyes on the window, trying her best to ignore the situation as well as the subject of at least half of all her nightmares seated just feet across her. It did get much easier once they were past the gates, like the very air was just lighter, warmer, and _safer_. She almost sighed.

“So, are you really alright, I did say that chocolate helps, right?” Lupin addressed them all, looking them over with as much calculation as worry if Edie wasn’t completely blind.

“Fine,” Riko stated coldly. “We had some chocolate back on the train. So, Lupin, or wouldn’t that be Lupin? You wouldn’t perchance have family in France?”

She’d used his own pronunciation first, then the correct one, and that _was_ interesting, alright, and a better thing to focus on than anything else at hand. Edie was glad she had her scarf still up, hiding her involuntary smile. Just like Riko, to answer fine after almost going off the deep end, and asking a question so typical for an ancestry-fixated Slytherin when she clearly just wanted to gauge if he had any sort of link to her bloody idol Arsene. Not to mention that Edie knew how much care she had to take to not slip into her Japanese-inflected pronounciation of the French name the.. professor had mangled in his own way.

But unfortunately he did impassive really well. “Yes, very removed though, by a number of generations,” he said, still in that rough, hoarse voice that almost made Edie wince just from listening.

Their carriage stopped then, and Edie thanked all the fates and deities ever.

From Riko’s icy look and Lupin’s suddenly far more contained mien they had managed to set each other off, by whatever means, and she did not want to be around, much share a coach with that sort of disaster. She was only too glad to hurriedly scramble out after Vi. She couldn’t even spare an eye roll about Riko refusing to show her back to the new professor, when instead of like a normal person her friend climbed out of the coach backwards as if covering a retreat. They could get _away_ now, nothing overly terrible had happened and it was such a _damn_ relief.

It took her all the way to the Great Hall, which was at their fast clip admittedly not very long, to recall she’d been spitting mad at her friends. It came in a steady buzz, adrenaline giving way to exhaustion, the smells and noise of hundreds of bloody people beating against her senses, all those damn candles trying to stab out her eyes, just the entire reality dropping onto her, chasing away the surreal circumstances that allowed her to ignore the entire mess they, by which she meant both her friends and herself, had somehow created.

At least the two noticed her mood. Neither of them said much, only giving her a silent wave and worried look as they fell away to sit at their house tables. Amy was nowhere to be seen, even as the last stragglers hurried in. Potter neither, only Ron Weasley looking around worriedly all on his own. Were they in trouble already? Edie had no clue how that should be possible, but, well, Potter.

Of course none of that helped at all with Edie’s miserable, horrible mood and state. But her housemates were already used to her occasional head colds, so the combination of scarf and drawn-up hood at least saved her from attempts at conversation. The house elves were so kind as to let a big mug of herbal tea and a bowl of hot beef tea appear as soon as she sat down. Edie didn’t care about hat-songs or sortings, announcements or schools songs after that. With Amy’s ear plugs she managed to doze after finishing the warm drinks, burying her head in her scarf and arms.

She still felt rather beat up when Noda gently shook her awake, looking mildly worried. Everyone was already leaving the hall. Embarrassed, Edie fought to get her throat working and politely declined the offer to be taken to Madam Pomfrey. Noda was in sixth year now and so more likely to prefect around than the others, but she was pleasantly contained and reasonable. In view of this Edie didn’t mind the worried look and gentle hand on her back as she was lead up to the eyry. She forced herself to brush her teeth, knowing she’d regret it if she didn’t, but that was it. After tightly drawing her curtains Edie retreated into sleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.


	6. Tea Leaves and Talons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So the first day of the year starts out.. eventful, yeah, ok, that fits, and I am sure the dementors hanging around the school have absolutely no influence on the tense athmosphere at all. I mean, they are just a bunch of mood-influencing things in a highly charged magical area...

Amy startled awake, alert with adrenaline but also slightly dizzy. Everything was still and dark. After a few deep breaths and copious staring around without seeing or hearing anything out of the ordinary, she sighed and reached for her watch. Dawn was just about to start, she could just read a little. She couldn’t remember her dream but it had left her shaking and she felt far too awake and unsettled now to relax back into her pillows. Belatedly her hand flew to her neck, but the fine golden chain was still there, as was the time-turner. Amy sighed, torn between pure excitement and terrible anxiousness.

Professor McGonagall had been very clear, and Amy _had_ read more than one science fiction book that dealt with the dangers of mucked up time travel, had seen quite a few programmes, and not even just the one with the Doctor and Ace. But still, it honestly was just.. was even beyond brilliant. Of course it was brilliant because it meant she could attend all her classes, but even more fascinating, downright fantastic, was the function of it, and the potential, and all the theory behind it. Mom and Dad would be beside themselves and Amy had been captivated by the, well, pamphlet, really, that her head of house had handed over.

By order of the Ministry, she’d said, and to make sure she read it thoroughly. She wouldn’t be quizzed on it, except for having to not get herself wiped out. Yes, she could keep it, of course, and to ask if she needed any further books on it, or notes if they were Restricted. Amy knew she hadn’t blushed, then, because she’d already been so warm with excitement she couldn’t get any redder.

Professor McGonagall had looked rather amused, but also a bit worried, had remarked to use it responsibly not just in view of her classes but also herself. It’d sounded ominously as if her head of house was going to keep a very close watch if Amy was doing ‘alright’, ready to cut her off if she thought it brought any trouble. She’d also stressed, twice, just how very important it was to take the secrecy statement serious. And of course Amy understood that, it was quite obvious, and had nodded earnestly, full of good intentions and perhaps slightly distracted by the chance to learn so much more, first student to be allowed in over a hundred years.. But while she was rolled up in bed for the night and paging for the fifth time through the pamphlet, realism had snuck in.

There was a good chance she could keep it from Harry and Ron because they were used to her being off wherever and doing whatever. They’d not ask much in questions and Amy had practice in not easily giving away answers, be it for homework or private matters. But her fellow Untouchables.. Amy had realized with a sinking feeling that it was impossible they wouldn’t notice. It’d be Edie all over again, they’d find clues and worry, if she kept stubbornly silent, and who knew what madness would follow in their attempts to solve the mystery.

She could just tell them she had a secret and not to ask her, but they’d still try to find out without disturbing her and the results would be just as bad. They’d figure it out anyway and Amy knew they could keep secrets, best proof was Edie and whatever Riko wanted to tell them. It was different with Harry and Ron. Even if they could manage to be quiet about it (unlikely), they’d never manage discreet. Professor McGonagall would know they knew. Well, mostly with Ron, really, he had such a temper. There was no way Amy could let him know. And she couldn’t tell Harry but not Ron, that would be all sorts of wrong and bound to end badly sooner rather than later. Ugh..

She’d resolutely tucked the pamphlet into her trunk then and opened her _Numerology and Gramatica_ where she’d marked her place with.. ah, yes, her rough overview of the most common runic types. It was calming to trace the examples with her finger, quietly mouthing their meanings. Afterwards she got completely sucked into Arithmancy again, scribbling in the margins ideas and questions with her trusty night-pencil. It always paid to have the means to record spontaneous ideas you got just before falling asleep, Amy had never regretted it. Sometimes it wasn’t easy to work out just what exactly she’d meant to tell herself, but there was a reason she’d taken a few books on shorthands and codes along to France and it wasn’t like she’d been terribly busy afterwards, either. At least Harry had written.

Sitting up now, Amy huffed impatiently at her pointless brooding. They’d talk it out today, Riko’d tell them her secret, and they’d find a way to reassure Edie’s parents. They had handled impossible heists, well, one at least, and dangerous, deadly creatures; they’d be fine. And she had to make up a list, well, a new list, of subject preferences now, so she’d be ready when she got her timetable. Arithmancy was by far the most fascinating so far, you could do so much with it, could use it to improve just about everything, it was so..flexible.. and second, hmm..

-

Although a certain underlying tension remained, Amy was in a great, only slightly impatient, mood when she’d collected Harry and Ron and they made their way down to the Great Hall. It was a good thing her bag was bigger on the inside and charmed to be lighter, too. She wasn’t sure why her house received their timetables at breakfast instead of by their night-tables in the morning, but then, it wasn’t only the books that had been on the list in her bag, there were additional volumes and the various rune dictionaries and Riko’s belated birthday gift and..

Loud laughter and voices made her look up as they neared the Slytherin table, just in time to see Malfoy do a ridiculously Victorian swoon. The usual spike of annoyance at the inbred git (even if Riko said he wasn’t, inbred that is) was much stronger than usual. Hm. Hadn’t it said somewhere.. but no, right now she had Harry to deal with, who was still being unreasonably thin-skinned about his attack from yesterday. It never ended well when he tensed up like that, drawing his shoulders back instead of inwards..

“Ignore him,” Amy urged him in a quiet voice and walked closer behind him to herd him along to their table. “Just ignore him, it’s not worth it..”

Following her own advice, she focussed on getting Harry to the table, and being glad Ron was being helpful. In the background Parkinson shrieked about the dementors coming, eliciting more laughter from her housemates and another sharp stab of annoyance for Amy. But Harry had actually listened, or seen reason, and simply dropped into a seat at the Gryffindor table, next to George Weasley. Amy followed him quickly, relieved but also impatient. Where were the timetables already? Ron plopped down beside her, still yawning.

“New third-year timetables,” said George, passing them over. “What’s up with you, Harry?”

Amy was busy gleefully checking her timetable after scribbling in her name, so she appreciated Ron’s answer and the fact he was obviously still too tired to get properly worked up. “Malfoy,” was all he said, glaring over at the Slytherin table on what was clearly auto-pilot. She was only paying cursory attention, calculating the hours per day, the best routes, and really, _could_ they have designed it for longer routes? Probably not, honestly, alright, at least Thursday and Friday were both finished after 4 th, hopefully they could keep their tried and trusted division into house-days and free days, she’d have to check her friends timetables first chance she got...

Meanwhile, George and Fred were very good about reassuring Harry about yesterday, telling him about Draco hiding in their compartment and almost wetting himself (although Amy actually doubted that last bit, what did he have to be afraid of after all). They were pretty smart, bringing in their own discomfort first, raising to their Dad, who was after all a grown wizard, then stressing how most wizards go insane in the company of dementors. That was nicely generic, illustrated their horribleness. Reminded her of the way Ginny had shook in her arms, while she was helpless to do anything but freeze in panic.

It also had the side effect of Amy feeling uncomfortably disgusted by a society that obviously didn’t follow codes like the Geneva Convention, or human rights – which really ought to be sentient beings right with all they knew, but hah! – or even the general idea of Rehabilitation instead of some backwards eye-for-an-eye nonsense. Not to mention the insane idea of working with Dementors. Stercus flammifer, honestly.

But back to the now, all this sane and helpful reassurance didn’t even work, with Harry still hung up on fainting, until they went for the big guns and Distracted Him With Quidditch. (which really deserved capitalisation with how unfailing a constant it was. Amy often internally bemoaned the ban on magic on the pitch; just imagine how easy it would be to get her friends to do their homework then!)

In the interest of keeping her friends from falling into a pit of quidditch conversation from which there would be no escape for hours, Amy jumped in then.

“Ooh, good, we’re starting some new subjects today,” she announced, honestly happy to be back here.

It worked beautifully, allowing her to ignore her worry about seeing neither head or tail of Riko so far, and breakfast already close to over. Well, that and the fact she could go to Arithmancy first thing now, yes! It also got her the first of what she hoped wouldn’t be many questions.

“Hermione,” said Ron, frowning as he looked over her shoulder, “they’ve messed up your timetable. Look – they’ve got you down for about ten subjects a day. There isn’t enough time.”

Best make it a non-issue, Amy thought and replied distractedly into her mug of tea. “I’ll manage. I’ve fixed it all with Professor McGonagall.”

“But look,” Ron persisted, laughing, “see this morning? Nine o’clock, Divination. And underneath, nine o’clock, Muggle Studies. And –” he leant closer to her, _her personal_ , timetable, disbelieving, “look – underneath that, Arithmancy, nine o’clock. I mean, I know you’re good, Hermione, but no one’s that good. How’re you supposed to be in three classes at once?”

“Don’t be silly,” said Amy shortly, stubbornly clinging to literal truths because she really didn’t like lying, least of all to her friends. “Of course I won’t be in three classes at once.”

“Well, then..”

“Pass the marmalade,” she said, hoping to end this and get them all to focus on food instead of her timetable, and usually Ron had _opinions_ about marmalade..

But of course Ron just had to be stubborn, _honestly_. “But..”

“Oh, Ron, what’s it to you if my timetable’s a bit full?” Amy snapped, starting to get seriously annoyed. Did they always have to ask when she didn’t want them to and not care a lick when she could appreciate it? “I told you, I’ve fixed it all with Professor McGonagall.”

Thank Fortuna and the fates, Hagrid entered the Great Hall just then, or things might have ended in a row before breakfast even ended. He was wearing his long moleskin overcoat and absent-mindedly swinging a dead polecat from one enormous hand.

“All righ’?” he said eagerly, pausing on his way to the staff table. “Yer in my firs’ ever lesson! Right after lunch! Bin up since five gettin’ everythin’ ready.. hope it’s OK.. me, a teacher.. hones’ly..”

He grinned broadly at them and headed off to the staff table, still swinging the polecat. Amy decided to get him some sort of inauguration gift for his teaching career, perhaps something from the Three Broomsticks, because that had been a very good distraction.

“Wonder what he’s been getting ready?” said Ron, a note of anxiety in his voice.

The Hall was starting to empty as people headed off towards their first lesson, she could see Edie and Vi head out from their respective house tables, still keeping a wary distance. Riko still hadn’t shown. Amy thought about mentioning Fluffy, but Ron had already moved on.

“We’d better go,” he said, “look, Divination’s at the top of North Tower. It’ll take us at least ten minutes to get there..”

They hastily finished their breakfast, said goodbye to Fred and George, and walked back through the Hall, again to laughter and layman fainting from the Slytherin table. If they kept this up, Amy was going to do something, and it would not be nice..

Amy waited until they’d turned into a corridor that wasn’t teeming with people heading for their classes and had just enough corners to duck behind. Then, heart pounding with excitement, she split up and raced for her favourite short-cut to the seventh floor. The classroom wasn’t far from Professor Flitwick’s office and, far more relevant, rather close to the Ravenclaw dormitories entrance, the way to which Amy knew very well indeed by now. Looking around for the right door, Amy tried to imagine Harry and Ron’s reaction to her suddenly being gone. She couldn’t help the giddy grin all but splitting her face in two, suddenly feeling strangely invincible, with her own private groundhog day machine bouncing under her robe.

When she found the Arithmancy room there were surprisingly few people there, making her check her watch. But it really was almost time. Edie and Vi gave small waves and had obviously managed to reduce their distance problem, they were now sharing a desk. They were still keeping as much distance as possible though, so it was probably because it was the only one that had the door in direct view, with the first row of desks arranged in a U-shape. Amy waved back, looking around. The room was bright and had lots of shelves with thick books and a few mobile blackboards on the walls. Atuin and Sanson from Hufflepuff shared a desk looking to the front and had, as usual, their heads together, talking. The Ravenclaw Patil was sitting on the other front-facing desk by herself, and that was it.

Where was the rest and, more importantly, where was Riko? Amy shifted her bag and walked in, suddenly a little unsure. This couldn’t be everyone taking Arithmancy, but just to make sure she’d sit with Patil rather than make her think she disliked her. She didn’t, after all. But halfway there, Riko rushed past her, looking extremely harassed, and dropped in the seat. Leaving Amy to stand there, confused and a little taken aback. Now she could either sit in the second row or with her back to the ..oh, to the door. Oh, Riko, _honestly_..

The breathless “Hey Amy sorry hope you don’t mind really sorry” hadn’t exactly reassured her of her friends sanity _or_ been very mollifying, and from their looks Edie, Vi and even Patil agreed with her. With a frustrated sigh Amy dropped into a chair with her back to the door. She busied herself taking out everything she might need for the lesson and pointedly not looking at anyone, least of all Riko. She knew her friend had a tendency to paranoia, but this was just.. rude, and also weird. Riko usually disliked the first row, they could’ve shared a desk in second row..

“Excuse me, do you mind if I..?” the polite, quiet voice made her look up in renewed confusion.. at Theo, or rather Nott, officially.

He’d trailed off after a vague gesture at the desk and Amy belatedly realized she’d probably been staring. Shit, how embarrassing! She could feel her face heating and cleared her throat.

“Oh, sorry, of course, please, have a seat, I was just.. elsewhere..”

“Thank you,” was all he said, with such a small moment’s pause before it that Amy knew he wanted her to know his conscious decision to be gracious. She almost sighed.. Slytherins and their hangups. Well, two could play at that.

“No trouble at all,” she shot him a smile that was just an inch on the dry side without losing the pleasant friendly tone. It was a pleasure to see him blink at her, then nod agreeably, obviously thinking some things over.

Then Professor Vector, a tall witch with her dark brown hair in a helmet-like bob, quick, dark eyes and very fair skin, entered and greeted them all with an easygoing “Good morning everyone, let’s get right down to business, starting with how this is going to work..”

It was utterly brilliant. The Professor had split Arithmancy into two groups, divided by who was taking Runes and who wasn’t, because knowledge of that very interesting subject added many more applications. Amy’s fingers were literally itching to just get started already!

Just to keep herself occupied she started taking shorthand notes on the examples the Professor mentioned and underlining the bit of “small groups are also preferable as it will give you a better chance to present your formulae and make it easier to keep track of the different feedback”. Amy managed to not draw hearts around it but was a near thing. She settled for copious amounts of smileys and some stars. Then the lesson proper started and after a concise introduction on the general principles the Professor started them on what was to be their homework.

“Learning by doing is what we want here, you can read the theory anywhere after all, the lesson is to practise and clear any questions that arise. Which is bound to happen so don’t be shy. Try and find an answer with your neighbour first but be sure to speak up if you think it’s also relevant for your fellow students. Alright then, get started on your new favourite subject!”

Amy grinned and made sure she had all the questions noted down, then took out a fresh parchment and got started on the first one, _‘_ _What is a Numerology Chart?_ _’_

Alright then, _‘A_ _Numerology Chart is a way of using the arithmantic properties of something to find more about it and the basis of proper, stable enchant-.._ _’_

“Excuse me.. Granger?”

Again with the overly formal airs and pointed pauses, honestly, even with no other Slytherins around and talking quietly enough to probably not be overheard he had to keep at it.. well, it was probably reflexive for them, right?

“Yes?” She made a point of looking up, encouraging polite interactions was a good thing, right, even if she was impatient to continue..

“I.. heard the Professor likes her answers short and to the point, unless they’re formulae, in which case the longer winded the better..”

His expression was blandly neutral, but his finger was tapping on his sheet of questions.. oh.. on the fifth question, ‘ _What is the purpose and significance of Numerology Charts in Enchanting? (give two examples)_ ’. This time it was her turn to blink.

“Oh, that’s good to know, thank you. That will probably take some getting used to for me..”

Her face was heating already so she could just as well properly admit to what she knew everyone already knew, after the number of teachers had remarked on her overly long essays. The lightly raised eyebrow she got along with his ‘de nada’ gesture was hard to read but seemed friendly.

“She was up pretty early, from what I hear, and in a bit of a temper. No idea what she got up to in the meantime though..”

He was looking at Riko now and talking even more quietly. He shrugged and looked.. uneasy. Wow, suddenly Amy wanted to know every little detail, not that it was going to happen, she knew _that_ , but still. Also, because _she_ had of course heard, Edie was now staring at them across the U-shape, then at Riko. Who.. had apparently been watching, or possibly even eavesdropping, from the way she was now stubbornly glaring at her desk. Grand. Just bloody fantastic.

“It was probably because she slept most of the train ride,” Amy said, as neutral as possible, then suggested they go through the questions together.

She was proud to note it paid off for both of them, her bubbling with answers and Nott knowledgeable enough and acting much like a valve. They ignored each other politely when they got the formulae exercises, as they were to use the basic equations they had just been shown to calculate their Heart, Soul and Character Number to practice, before getting up to a few more variable-driven equations. Private info, that, obviously.

It seemed like hardly any time had passed when the lesson ended, and when Amy checked her watch she had to hastily throw everything haphazardly into her bag and race out. She didn’t feel quite confident enough to do fiddly part-turns on her first try. Having raced to where she had not _quite_ an hour earlier split from Harry and Ron, Amy leaned back in the niche she’d selected earlier and took a few deep breaths. Then, heart pounding in her throat, she carefully cradled the tiny sparkling hourglass in her hands. With nervous but steady fingers she turned it carefully, paying close attention to the way it handled, to the miniature scales and script along the fancy mounting. Meanwhile, the world dissolved around her and she had the odd feeling of flying backwards. Her ears were pounding.

Then it was like landing after taking a phase through something and Amy had solid ground under her feet again. She was still in the same place but when she checked her watch it was now a solid, real hour earlier. Amy grinned so hard she thought it might split her head. This was _brilliant_! It was as much of a rush as anything she’d ever done with the Untouchables, Loki’s net and stockings, she just _had_ to come up with some good plans for taking them along without getting caught, the sheer amount of _possibilities_ , the _things_ they could get up to..

“Are you sure, I mean we could just take the main staircase..”

As often, Ron’s voice preceded him, echoing in the narrow corridor and Amy shook herself, hastily drawing an Obscurantis over herself. And there they came, alright, time-turner back under her robe, watch back in her pocket, book-bag.. ah, yes, properly closed, alright..

Amy waited with bated breath, watching herself looking right at the niche and hadn’t she imagined her own figure grinning back before grinning herself and turning back at the corner to race off..? Aaand there she went, gods and _spirits_ , this was insane and intoxicating, like one giant prank!

Stepping round the corner and following her two friends, Amy was extremely glad they were so focussed on finding the way because it took her quite a while to stop grinning like a lunatic or Riko on a good day. She managed, of course, and it wasn’t even on account of her recurring worries about her friends. The journey through the castle to North Tower was a long one because, even with all their exploring, the Untouchables had always had other priorities the last two years. And then, by the time they made it to the seventh floor, Amy had somehow managed to get North and South turned around on the way. Honestly, there had to be a short-cut, she had to agree to Ron there, even if she did it quietly.

Harry, distractable as he was, got into it with a painting of a weird, probably brain-damaged knight. Well, most likely the painter had just been a bit lazy, and once the knight got over insulting them he did offer to lead the way so Amy wasn’t going to complain. Even when he raced ahead like mad, making it hard to keep in view even a glimpse of him as he charged away through all the pictures, disrupting tea-parties and still-lives. A rather daunting number of turns and a good length of corridor later they were thoroughly out of breath and climbing the tightly spiralling steps of a narrow spiral staircase, getting dizzier and dizzier, until at last they heard the murmur of voices above them, and knew they had reached the classroom.

“Farewell!” cried the knight, popping his head into a painting of some sinister-looking monks. “Farewell, my comrades-in-arms! If ever you have need of noble heart and steely sinew, call upon Sir Cadogan!”

“Yeah, we’ll call you,” muttered Ron, as the knight disappeared, “if we ever need someone mental.”

They climbed the last few steps and emerged onto a tiny landing, where most of the class was already assembled. Except for Jana and Alanna all her housemates were here, the other half was a mix of four Ravenclaws, the two blonde Slytherin girls, and Finch-Fletchley from Hufflepuff. There were no doors off this landing; Amy looked up and Ron nudged Harry and pointed at the ceiling, where there was a circular trap door with a brass plaque on it.

“Sybill Trelawney, Divination teacher,” Harry read. “How’re we supposed to get up there?”

As if to answer to his question, the trap door suddenly opened, and a silvery ladder descended right at Harry’s feet. Everyone went quiet.

“After you,” said Ron, grinning, so of course Harry stepped up and climbed the ladder first.

Just for that Amy followed immediately on her friend’s heels. Gods, Ron wasn’t going to get spooked by this subject, surely? Not that Amy was already convinced it was complete hogwash, even if she admitted to being somewhat sceptical. But there had to be _some_ thing to it, there was _so_ many books on it, and she _knew_ you could use Runes and some Arithmancy equations for it too, and there was so many different legends, and so many methods.. it’d be interesting just for that, she was sure, even if she didn’t really think she’d suddenly turn into a seer.

The classroom, if you even wanted to call it that, made it hard to keep an open mind. It was more like a cross between someone’s attic and an old-fashioned teashop. At least twenty small, circular tables were crammed inside it, all surrounded by chintz armchairs and fat little pouffes. Just seeing those.. tuffets made it even harder to keep a straight face, as it reminded her of another badly aired room, even if the smell was rather different. And there was no troll around, or at least Amy couldn’t really fathom a way for one to get up here.

That thought didn’t exactly help taking this here serious, either. But something about the room set Amy on edge and in need of distraction. Off the top of her head she could make an extensive list of things she’d probably be better off doing right now, instead of standing around here with everyone pressed against everyone, gawping about. It was probably the light, or lack thereof. Everything was lit with a dim, crimson glow; the curtains at the windows were all closed, and the many lamps were draped with dark red scarves.

It was also stiflingly warm, and the fire burning under the crowded mantelpiece was giving off a heavy, sickly sort of perfume as it heated a large copper kettle. The shelves running around the circular walls were crammed with dusty-looking feathers, stubs of candles, many packs of tattered playing cards, countless silvery crystal balls and a huge array of teacups. The look of disuse and utter lack of books didn’t exactly increase Amy’s trust. Ron had wedged between her and Harry as the class assembled around them, all talking in whispers.

“Where is she?” Ron said.

As if on cue, a voice came suddenly out of the shadows, a soft, misty sort of voice. “Welcome,” it said. “How nice to see you in the physical world at last.”

Amy’s immediate impression was of a large, glittering moth. Professor Trelawney moved into the firelight, and they saw that she was very thin; her large glasses magnified her eyes to several times their natural size, and she was draped in a gauzy spangled shawl. Innumerable chains and beads hung around her spindly neck, and her arms and hands were encrusted with bangles and rings.

“Sit, my children, sit,” she said, and they all climbed awkwardly into armchairs or sank onto tuffets. Amy, resentful of this address, stiffly sat on the same round table as Harry and Ron.

“Welcome to Divination,” said Professor Trelawney, who had seated herself in a winged armchair in front of the fire. “My name is Professor Trelawney. You may not have seen me before. I find that descending too often into the hustle and bustle of the main school clouds my Inner Eye.”

Nobody said anything in answer to this extraordinary pronouncement. Amy bit her lip, impatience prickling along her spine as Professor Trelawney delicately rearranged her shawl before continuing.

“So you have chosen to study Divination, the most difficult of all magical arts. I must warn you at the outset that if you do not have the Sight, there is very little I will be able to teach you. Books can take you only so far in this field..”

At these words, both Harry and Ron glanced, grinning, at her. Oh classic, haha, so very funny, not like she was doing well enough in Flying, which was supposedly also not something to be learned from books. Besides, why exactly where there so many books on it then, huh?

“Many witches and wizards, talented though they are in the area of loud bangs and smells and sudden disappearings, are yet unable to penetrate the veiled mysteries of the future,” Professor Trelawney went on, her enormous, gleaming eyes moving from face to nervous face. “It is a Gift granted to few. You, boy,” she said suddenly to Neville, who almost toppled off his pouffe, “is your grandmother well?”

“I think so,” said Neville tremulously.

“I wouldn’t be so sure if I were you, dear,” said Professor Trelawney, the firelight glinting on her long emerald earrings.

Neville gulped. Amy crossed her arms and went over her mental list of things to do to keep quiet. Picking on Neville, huh? Looking for easy targets, that it? Even Professor Snape, who seemed to revel in being terrible, had never brought Neville’s family into it, and his speech was much more impressive, too, despite the tune being much the same!

Professor Trelawney continued placidly, “We will be covering the basic methods of Divination this year. The first term will be devoted to reading the tea leaves. Next term we shall progress to palmistry. By the way, my dear,” she shot suddenly at Parvati, “beware a red-haired man.”

Their Patil shot a startled look at Ron, who sat right behind her, and edged her chair away from him, apparently completely forgetting the twins or, if you really wanted to credit that singular, Percy, who was after all prefect as well as headboy and always glad to make something out of nothing. Amy rolled her eyes but refrained from sighing. Barely. And why were they only going over one methode per term? The index of Unfogging the Future had at least a dozen listed!

“In the summer term,” Professor Trelawney went on, eyes roving over the class, pausing shortly when Amy stared back, “we shall progress to the crystal ball – if we have finished with fire-omens, that is. Unfortunately, classes will be disrupted in February by a nasty bout of flu. I myself will lose my voice. And around Easter, one of our number will leave us for ever.”

A very tense silence followed this pronouncement, but Professor Trelawney seemed unaware of it. Right. Amy started jiggling her leg to let off some energy, to not do something rude before lesson even started. The curriculum didn’t seem very thought through, so far.

“I wonder, dear,” Professor Trlawney said to Lavender, who was nearest and shrank back in her chair, “if you could pass me the largest silver teapot?”

Lavender, looking relieved, stood up, took an enormous teapot from the shelf and put it down on the table in front of Professor Trelawney. Amy noted the professor was watching the girl very closely.

“Thank you, my dear. Incidentally, that thing you are dreading – it will happen on Friday the sixteenth of October.”

Lavender trembled. Amy felt her eyes narrow and grit her teeth. Whatever was taught here had better be good, once they got to it. So far it was like every cheap psychology trick ever. No wonder there was only two Slytherins here, and they were keeping their faces very impassive.

“Now, I want you all to divide into pairs. Collect a teacup from the shelf, come to me and I will fill it. Then sit down and drink; drink until only the dregs remain. Swill these around the cup three times with the left hand, then turn the cup upside-down on its saucer; wait for the last of the tea to drain away, then give your cup to your partner to read. You will interpret the patterns using pages five and six of _Unfogging the Future_. I shall move among you, helping and instructing. Oh, and dear –” she caught Neville by the arm as he made to stand up, “after you’ve broken your first cup, would you be so kind as to select one of the blue patterned ones? I’m rather attached to the pink.”

Sure enough, after this very confidence-imbuing statement, Neville had no sooner reached the shelf of teacups than there was a tinkle of breaking china. Professor Trelawney swept over to him holding a dustpan and brush and said, “One of the blue ones, then, dear, if you wouldn’t mind.. thank you..”

Amy fought the sudden urge to pick another pink one and smash it. She was making no promises for the future, though, if this continued. Her cup filled, and yes, she was staring coolly at the woman the entire time, Amy followed Harry and Ron back to their table and tried to drink the scalding tea quickly. They swilled the dregs around as Professor Trelawney had instructed, then drained the cups. It was rather messy even with most of the tea gone, and it wasn’t even half-decent tea, honestly. Amy opened her book on page five while she waited for the soggy mess to take some shape. The tea didn’t oblige and remained a soggy mess, which was intensely frustrating. It wasn’t like it was different from seeing shapes in the clouds, and she always came away with fun sightings there. It was probably the lack of air, brains need air to work, honestly.

“Right,” said Ron, who had traded cups with Harry. “What can you see in mine?”

Right, Amy thought, just go on and ignore me then.

“A load of soggy brown stuff,” said Harry and Amy had to stop herself from smiling because if they ignored her they didn’t get that. It was hard to split her attention the usual way because the heavily perfumed smoke in the room was making her feel sleepy and stupid.

“Broaden your minds, my dears, and allow your eyes to see past the mundane!” Professor Trelawney cried through the gloom.

Amy grit her teeth and focussed on the exercise. It helped to scribble the vague forms she could see on a parchment, that way it wasn’t just a mess that needed cleaning up. Hmm, that there looked like a fish under a dolphin.. great, dolphin wasn’t even listed and she couldn’t use fish for it because surely whoever wrote this knew dolphins weren’t fish, maybe she could say it was a bridge, alright, fish – good fortune in all things, health, wealth and happiness, bridge – an opportunity for success.

Honestly, this was very fortune-cookie-like so far. Alright, now this massive blob-thing in the upper middle.. clouds maybe? That’d be trouble ahead, great, at least there were no dots around it, so she didn’t have to worry about money troubles.. or if you looked from down here it was a bit like a bear.. which would either be a journey or irrational decisions causing difficulties, but from the way it was sitting Amy couldn’t be sure if the bear was keeping an eye on the handle of the cup or watching the fish..

Across the table Harry and Ron were stifling laughter and Amy replayed the last few moments in her head, ah, right, “You need your Inner Eye testing, if you ask me,” Ron’d said and Amy thought about offering a comment about glasses, but they huddled down when Professor Trelawney gazed in their direction.

“My turn..” Ron peered into Harry’s teacup, his forehead wrinkled with effort. “There’s a blob a bit like a bowler hat,” he said. “Maybe you’re going to work for the Ministry of Magic..”

He turned the teacup the other way up. As the only further thing she could think of with her own cup was to ask Vi what she or her house guardian would make of bears being journeys or irrational trouble, Amy decided to watch and try to enjoy the offered diversion.

“But this way it looks more like an acorn … what’s that?” He scanned his copy of Unfogging the Future. “‘A windfall, unexpected gold.’ Excellent, you can lend me some. And there’s a thing here,” he turned the cup again, “that looks like an animal. Yeah, if that was its head … it looks like a hippo … no, a sheep..”

Professor Trelawney whirled around as Harry let out a snort of laughter.

“Let me see that, my dear,” she said reprovingly to Ron, sweeping over and snatching Harry’s cup from him.

Everyone went quiet to watch. Amy resolutely didn’t sigh. Professor Trelawney was staring into the teacup, rotating it anti-clockwise.

“The falcon … my dear, you have a deadly enemy.”

“But everyone knows that,” Amy commented in a what was technically still a whisper. Professor Trelawney stared at her. “Well, they do. Everybody knows about Harry and Voldemort.”

Harry and Ron gaped at her with a mixture of amazement and admiration. Admittedly, Amy had never spoken to a teacher like that, but she could already see where this was going, and if that overgrown moth wanted to spook them by picking at her friends.. well, she’d better not!

Professor Trelawney chose not to reply. She lowered her huge eyes to Harry’s cup again and continued to turn it. Amy wondered what doom and gloom she’d come up with next. True enough, the moth made a club of Ron’s bowler, for an attack. Then she somehow saw a skull for danger in Harry’s future and Amy wanted to take the cup from her and smash it on her head. She crossed her arms instead because that would be irrational and cause trouble, hah, hello there, bear..

Honestly, Harry already had enough on his plate, with Voldemort’s spirit out there and dementors around the school, he didn’t need teachers threatening him with a bad fortune just to impress! But everyone was staring, transfixed, at Professor Trelawney, who gave the cup a final turn, gasped, and then screamed. There was another tinkle of breaking china; Neville had smashed his second cup. Professor Trelawney sank into a vacant armchair, her glittering hand at her heart and her eyes closed. It looked about as believable as Malfoy’s faints at breakfast.

“My dear boy – my poor dear boy – no – it is kinder not to say – no – don’t ask me..”

“What is it, Professor?” said Dean at once.

Everyone in the room had got to their feet, and slowly crowded around their table, pressing close to Professor Trelawney’s chair to get a good look at Harry’s cup. Amy took no prisoners, elbowing McDougal sharply out of the way. Targhin and Lannis wisely shifted out of the way then.

“My dear,” Professor Trelawney’s huge eyes opened dramatically, “you have the grim.”

“The what?” said Harry. Amy felt embarrassed for him, and then herself when she actually caught herself thinking ‘such a _muggle_ sometimes’.

Dean shrugged and Lavender looked puzzled, but nearly everybody else clapped their hands to their mouths in horror. Amy wanted to roll her eyes, recalling what Hagrid had told them. They were just another sort of hound, and a rather rare and brilliant one at that.

“The grim, my dear, the grim!” cried Professor Trelawney, clearly shocked that Harry hadn’t appreciated her oh-so-clever use of a death omen. “The giant, spectral dog that haunts churchyards! My dear boy, it is an omen – the worst omen – of death!”

Now Harry started looking pale. Amy actually wanted to growl with frustration. She just _had_ to, that stupid, _stupid_ moth! A dog was friends, maybe good news, or at worst friends in trouble, which could have even been realistic, but noooo, that witch just had to go in for death! In the dead silence everyone was staring at Harry, who seemed only now to realize it, and like it as much as he ever did, of course. He’d probably seen some dog over the hols, which was a perfectly normal thing, and was now worried over dying, honestly! Amy pointedly looked over the moth-witch’s shoulder into the cup. It was an even bet between a running dog or sheep. Nothing too bad really, she’d explain it to him properly, later. But first..

“I don’t think it looks like a grim,” she stated flatly.

Trelawney side-eyed her with mounting dislike, which Amy decided to take as a compliment. “You’ll forgive me for saying so, my dear, but I perceive very little aura around you. Very little receptivity to the resonances of the future.”

Oh, that was nice, try and dismiss her, clearly the overgrown moth had never heard about not throwing stones in a glass house! Amy smiled and tried to channel Professor Snape’s superior disdainful look. Professor McGonagall’s stern unimpressed one would’ve been much easier to get right, but that would imply an expectation of the target actually doing better and Amy didn’t feel inclined to that belief.

Beside her Seamus was tilting his head from side to side. “It looks like a grim if you do this,” he said, with his eyes almost shut, “but it looks more like a donkey from here,” he said, leaning to the left. Amy wanted to hug him, _some_ sanity, at last!

“When you’ve all finished deciding whether I’m going to die or not!” Harry interrupted, surprising them all. He looked annoyed now, which was a much better look than earlier, where he’d looked almost ill.

“I think we will leave the lesson here for today,” said Trelawney, in her mistiest voice. “Yes.. please pack away your things..”

Oh but of course, death omen announced, couldn’t end it much more dramatically, Amy thought drily. Silently the class took their teacups back to the front desk, packed away their books, and closed their bags. Ron was avoiding Harry’s eyes and Amy wanted to whack him, even more than the rest of the sorry lot.

“Until we meet again,” said Trelawney faintly, “fair fortune be yours. Oh, and dear –” she pointed at Neville, “you’ll be late next time, so mind you work extra hard to catch up.”

Amy sniffed angrily but hurried after Harry and Ron. Damn it, she had to get to Muggle Studies now. Well, she’d have to wait to properly talk to Harry until they were at lunch anyway. At least the way was pretty much the same, downwards, and with everyone still distracted it was easy to sneak away on the first floor and take the corner to her classroom. Still, even with her time-turner Amy was, while not late, not exactly early. There wasn’t a single Slytherin to be seen, huh, of course, two desks of Hufflepuffs, Jana and Alanna were sharing another, Terry and Goldstein from Ravenclaw were quietly sitting together, reading, while Megan Jones from Hufflepuff was chatting excitedly at Mandy Brocklehurst.

The room was at least twice as big as the Transfiguration classroom and in the back were not desks but long tables with a wild assortment of muggle items on them. The walls were lined with cabinets overflowing with more of the same, seemingly stacked without rhyme or reason. Hm. Drawing back her shoulders, Amy nodded at everyone and sat at a desk alone. It was a strange feeling. She couldn’t recall the last time that had happened without a full moon. It didn’t exactly improve her mood, either, and she decided to start a mental list on the reasons Harry didn’t have to worry about any sort of dog, even a Grim, should he have seen one.

She didn’t get far before a very average looking wizard entered and introduced himself as Professor Burbage. The lesson was a far step up from the theatrical nonsense of that moth-witch, but it was in no way as interesting as Amy had hoped, light years from Arithmancy for sure. Professor Burbage seemed sane and practical enough, but his insistence that “to understand today’s muggle one needs to start at the very beginning”, by which he actually and seriously meant the _stone age_ , was not heartening _nor_ very interesting.

Heck, Amy wasn’t even sure he was correct with some things and when she decided to research on it she realized she had at best an even chance of finding any decent books on it in the library. Oh honestly, why hadn’t she got an owl like she’d wanted, what if she had to ask her parents for books?

Soon she was regularly checking her watch. After all, she wasn’t exactly learning anything _new_ right now, and she’d need to get to where she had split real quickly before Harry and Ron noticed she was gone. Also, she was getting hungry as the time passed and the professor went on about mammoths being hunted and roasted. When he was finished giving them the particulars of their homework Amy all but jumped from her seat. Tearing through the corridors she hurriedly jammed her pencil and the crumpled note in her pocket while checking her watch, she’d split up in two minutes, now if she took that..

By the time she had, so to speak, merged back to her friends’ treck to Transfiguration, Amy was mildly out of breath and desperately trying to remember if they had really not talked at all on the way down. It didn’t seem so, which was good. On the other hand, people were still giving Harry a wide berth, as if his supposed bad fortune was catching, which soured her mood just as much as it had before Muggle Studies. Honestly, didn’t anyone here have at least an _ounce_ of reason?!

When they arrived at the Transfigs room it took Amy a moment to understand why Riko was shooting her a startled, sheepish look and it didn’t improve her mood, especially when her stomach picked that exact moment to growl loudly. Luckily Professor McGonagall chose that moment to let them in. Amy hurried in and then, because Theo, well, Nott, was sitting right there in the first row, she walked up to him and enquired if he’d mind. He didn’t, only rising an eyebrow. Harry had retreated to the back, Ron following him with a distance that was simply infuriating.

Riko looked resigned, heading to where Neville was seated. But then Parkinson intercepted her, jerking her chin towards Malfoy before seating herself regally beside a startled Neville. Watching her friend plop down no less resignedly beside the blond boy in the desk behind her and Theo, Amy felt almost a little sorry. Yes, she’d wanted to make a point, but it seemed thanks to her Riko now owed a favour to Parkinson, who was almost certainly working with Malfoy, most likely to grill Riko on whatever had happened today, which Amy still had absolutely no hint on. Grand. Bloody Slytherins..

But then class started and it was good. Not just good, it was useful (they were doing animagi!) and to the point, and there was no useless wishy-washy blubbering or wandering off into tangents. It was also much more quiet than usual, espacially for a first lesson in the year, which really said a lot, with how sharp Professor McGonagall was. The Professor noticed it too, surely, but it was only after she transformed into a tabby cat with spectacle markings around her eyes to absolutely no reaction, that she called them on it.

“Really, what has got into you all today?” said Professor McGonagall, after turning back into herself with a faint pop, and staring around at them all. “Not that it matters, but that’s the first time my transformation’s not got applause from a class.”

Everybody’s heads turned towards Harry again, but nobody spoke. Why, why, why?? Argh! Amy rolled her eyes and then started to explain, valiantly ignoring Nott’s and Riko’s curious looks at her raised hand. “Please, Professor, we’ve just had our first Divination class, and we were reading the tea leaves, and..”

“Ah, of course,” said Professor McGonagall, suddenly frowning. “There is no need to say any more, Miss Granger. Tell me, which of you will be dying this year?”

Everyone stared at her. Amy felt a rather different warmth than the one heating her face spreading through her guts at her head of house’s dry tone. It probably helped Harry, too, because after a few more moments he simply said “Me.”

“I see,” said Professor McGonagall, fixing Harry with her sharp eyes. “Then you should know, Potter, that Sybill Trelawney has predicted the death of one student a year since she arrived at this school. None of them has died yet. Seeing death omens is her favourite way of greeting a new class. If it were not for the fact that I never speak ill of my colleagues –” Professor McGonagall broke off, and Amy saw that her nostrils had gone white. After a moment the stately witch went on, more calmly, “Divination is one of the most imprecise branches of magic. I shall not conceal from you that I have very little patience with it. True Seers are very rare, and Professor Trelawney..”

She stopped again, and then said, in a very matter-of-fact tone, “You look in excellent health to me, Potter, so you will excuse me if I don’t let you off homework today. I assure you that if you die, you need not hand it in.”

Amy couldn’t help it, she laughed. Harry looked better, too. Not everyone was convinced, however. Ron still looked worried, and Lavender whispered, “But what about Neville’s cup?” Amy’s stomach growled again and she hid her rolling eyes behind her hair. Then she had to keep ignoring Theo’s curious looks. At least he was smart enough not to do more under Professor McGonagall’s nose. Well, and probably the eyes of every other Slytherin in the room, alright. Ugh. When the Transfiguration class had finished, Amy was in a great hurry to join the crowd thundering towards the Great Hall for lunch, resolutely dragging Harry and Ron along. Had she ever been so glad just for lunch?

“Ron, cheer up,” she said, pushing a dish of stew towards him after settling herself. “You heard what Professor McGonagall said.”

Ron spooned stew onto his plate and picked up his fork but didn’t start. “Harry,” he said, in a low, serious voice, “you haven’t seen a great black dog anywhere, have you?”

“Yeah, I have,” said Harry. “I saw one the night I left the Dursleys.”

Ron let his fork fall with a clatter.

“Probably a stray,” said Hermione calmly, because she knew it wasn’t going to help her case if she got loud now or started shaking her friend by the shoulders until he saw reason. Even so he looked at her as though she had gone mad.

“Hermione, if Harry’s seen a grim, that’s – that’s bad,” he said. “My – my Uncle Bilius saw one and – and he died twenty-four hours later!”

“That’s bound to be coincidence,” said Hermione firmly, pouring herself some pumpkin juice. “Hagrid said there was a grim, or rather padfoot, here on the grounds, years ago, and he saw him loads of times, and he’s still around and doing fine.”

“Yeah, well, he’s Hagrid! You don’t know what you’re talking about!” said Ron stubbornly. “Grims scare the living daylights out of most wizards!”

“There you are, then,” argued Amy back crisply, stubbornly ignoring his insult of her not knowing what she was talking about, and telling her _alien, uninformed self_ what proper and also _obviously bloody uninformed_ wizards thought. “They see the grim and die of fright. The grim’s not an omen, it’s the circumstantial cause of death! And both Hagrid and Harry are still with us because they’re not stupid enough to see one and think, right, well, I’d better pop my clogs then! After all, Harry saw that dog weeks ago!”

There, that really settled it, clearly, Amy thought, and took out her new Arithmancy book, propping it open against the juice jug. Now to properly drive it home.. “I think Divination seems very woolly,” she said, vindictively glad to have been proven right, and by her head-of-house no less, and searched for her page. “A lot of guesswork, if you ask me.”

“There was nothing woolly about the Grim in that cup!” said Ron hotly.

“You didn’t seem quite so confident when you were telling Harry it was a sheep,” Amy replied, starting to get really properly annoyed.

“Professor Trelawney said you didn’t have the right aura! You just don’t like being rubbish at something for a change!” Ron’s snide comment, completely beside the point as it was, pushed Amy, right over the edge into spitting mad.

She knew Ron didn’t like to admit it when he was wrong, but _this_ , getting personal with _her_ , while arguing _for_ Harry to have a _death_ omen after all, _that_ was just not on! And after Professor McGonagall had already said it was bound to be a bunch of nonsense, honestly, sometimes she just wanted to drown him in the lake! Amy slammed her Arithmancy book down on the table so hard that bits of meat and carrot flew everywhere.

“If being good at Divination means I have to pretend to see my friend’s death omens in a lump of tea leaves, I’m not sure I’ll be studying it much longer! That lesson was absolute rubbish compared to my Arithmancy class!”

Then she snatched up her bag and stalked away. Honestly, ugh, of course it was because the teacher disliked her, not because she dislike that overgrown, fraudy moth, fuck you, Ron, fuck you very much, and fine then, _fine_ , she’d just go to the kitchen where she could count on getting a decent meal without such idiocy around, stercus bloody flammifer godsdamned _nonsense_!

After greeting the house elves and enjoying a pleasant meal in the great bustling room, Amy felt much better. It was simply impossible to remain in a foul temper around the house elves without making them think it was their fault, and they were always so nice, too. It was also really nice to get out of the castle after lunch. Yesterday’s rain had cleared; the sky was a clear, pale grey and the grass was springy and damp underfoot as they set off for their first ever Care of Magical Creatures class. Even so Amy was pointedly ignoring Ron, who was walking on Harry’s other side.

At least he kept his gob shut, perhaps he had realized, at last or maybe at least, that arguing for Harry to have a death omen was the height of stupid. A few steps ahead was Malfoy with his two goons for audience, chuckling dutifully while he was talking animatedly. Most of the class was already there, including Riko. There were a few Hufflepuffs and a single Ravenclaw, Goldstein, but mostly it was a Gryffindor-Slytherin class. Grand, no potential for catastrophe here..

Hagrid was waiting at the door of his hut, dressed in his moleskin coat, Fang at his heels, looking impatient to get started. Amy really wanted to know what he had prepared for them that he’d had to start at five in the morning... probably not Fluffy the cerberus, too bad..

“C’mon, now, get a move on!” he called, as they approached. “Got a real treat for yeh today! Great lesson comin’ up! Everyone here? Right, follow me!”

He strolled off around the edge of the trees, and five minutes later, they found themselves outside a kind of paddock. There was nothing in it. Amy could see Hagrid’s beard twitch as he tried to hide his big smile at their confused, expectant looks.

“Everyone gather round the fence here!” he called. “That’s it – make sure yeh can see. Now, firs’ thing yeh’ll want ter do is open yer books –”

There was a lot of shuffling as they all dug in their bags. A few, like Macmillan, Lavender and Neville were very cautious about it. The Monster Book of Monsters liked dark places and cover, and it was very territorial, if the mess in Flourish and Blotts was anything to go by. But the books settled quickly enough, after a bit of snapping their covers and trying to wriggle back in the dark of the bags. That was the nice thing about them, you just had to lightly run your hand down their spine and they became as mellow as a purring cat. Soon, all twenty or so students had their open books lying in their arms as quiet as any other old book. Hagrid surveyed them, practically beaming as he saw they were all ready.

“Excellent, y’all, excellent start, smart lot y’are. One point to ev’ry one o’ yeh fer getting along with yer first official monster so well, even if it’s jest a fun little charm. Now, t’get the tedious bit out of th’way first, I’ll want a decent summary on today’s creature from y’all. Keep in mind what’s in that book is only the bare bones, ye’ll need to get some other sources and points in, too. A’right, now ye can let your books back in yer bags an’ maybe prepare sum writin’ tools so yeh can grab ’em quick, later, while I get our guests..” He strode away from them into the Forest and out of sight.

“Guests? Merlin, this place is going to the dogs,” said Malfoy loudly. “That oaf teaching classes, my father’ll have a fit when I tell him –”

“Shut up, Malfoy,” said Harry stonily, glaring at the stuck up pureblood.

“Careful, Potter, there’s a Dementor behind you –”

Amy traded long-suffering looks with Riko, who seemed relieved to no longer be.. in the doghouse, heh. Her friend didn’t move over, but then, to do so she’d have to pass the burgeoning fight, get past a still constipated-looking Ron, and walk right into a group of loitering Gryffindors. Not a smart move, Amy could understand that well enough. Then Lavender Brown squealed a loud “Ooooooh!”, effectively interrupting the usual exchange of insults between Harry and Malfoy by pointing towards the opposite side of the paddock.

Trotting towards them were a dozen of the most bizarre and impressive creatures Amy had ever seen. They had the bodies, hind legs and tails of horses, but the front legs, wings and heads of what seemed to be giant eagles, with cruel, steel-coloured beaks and large, brilliantly orange eyes. The talons on their front legs were half a foot long and deadly-looking. Each of them had a thick leather collar around its neck, which was attached to a long chain, and the ends of all of these were held in the vast hands of Hagrid, who came jogging into the paddock behind the creatures.

“Gee up, there!” he roared, shaking the chains and urging the creatures towards the fence where the class stood. Everyone drew back slightly as Hagrid reached them and tethered the fierce-looking creatures to the fence.

“Hippogriffs!” Hagrid roared happily, waving a hand at them. “Beau’iful, aren’ they?”

Amy could see what Hagrid meant, even if they looked definitely odder than Gloria. Or, well, perhaps just a little less regal, smaller – about the size of a horse – and collared. They had gleaming coats of feathers and, unlike a real griffin, fur, the parts of different animals flowing smoothly into each other. Each was a different colour: stormy grey, bronze, a pinkish roan, gleaming chestnut and inky black.

“So,” said Hagrid, rubbing his hands together and beaming around, “if yeh wan’ ter come a bit nearer..”

For a moment no one seemed to want to. Amy traded looks with Harry and Ron and they took the first step. The rest of the class followed.

“Now, firs’ thing yeh gotta know abou’ Hippogriffs is they’re proud,” said Hagrid. “Easily offended, Hippogriffs are. Don’t never insult one, ’cause it might be the last thing yeh do.”

Amy looked to the side for Riko and saw that Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle weren’t listening; they were talking in an undertone. Riko was watching in apparent fascination the Hippogriffs while being herself watched by Parkinson. Slytherins. But the lesson wasn’t about them, even if it sounded a bit similar, so..

“Yeh always wait fer the Hippogriff ter make the firs’ move,” Hagrid continued. “It’s polite, see? Yeh walk towards him, and yeh bow, an’ yeh wait. If he bows back, yeh’re allowed ter touch him. If he doesn’ bow, then get away from him sharpish, ’cause those talons hurt. Right – now who wants ter go first?”

Nobody answered. Even Amy had misgivings, and obviously so did Harry and Ron beside her. The Hippogriffs were moodily tossing their heads and flexing their powerful wings; they didn’t seem to like being tethered like this.

“No one?” said Hagrid, with a surprised look and if noone stepped up then maybe..

“I’ll do it,” said Harry beside her and Amy.. well, she wasn’t really surprised, to be honest.

There was an intake of breath from behind them, though, and both Lavender and Parvati whispered, “Oooh, no, Harry, remember your tea leaves!” Harry ignored them and Amy wanted to cheer him just for that while he climbed over the paddock fence.

“Good man, Harry!” roared Hagrid. “Right then – let’s see how yeh get on with Buckbeak.”

He untied one of the chains, pulled the grey Hippogriff away from his fellows, and slipped off his leather collar. Despite her disdain for the moth witch, Amy was biting her lips nervously, watching with bated breath. Then she shook herself and let her wand fall in her hand. Just to be sure. This was Harry, after all, if anything could go wrong..

“Easy, now, Harry,” said Hagrid quietly. “Yeh’ve got eye contact, now try not ter blink – Hippogriffs don’ trust yeh if yeh blink too much..”

Harry squinted, clearly unhappy to not have been told earlier. Buckbeak had turned his great, sharp head, and was staring at him with fierce orange eyes.

“Tha’s it,” said Hagrid. “Tha’s it, Harry.. now, bow..”

Harry hesitated a moment and Amy could understand that very well. She wouldn’t be happy to expose the back of her neck like that either, but he did as he was told. He gave a short bow and then looked up. The Hippogriff was still staring haughtily at him. It didn’t move.

“Ah,” said Hagrid, sounding worried. “Right – back away, now, Harry, easy does it –”

But then, to her and, from the sounds of it, everyone’s surprise, the Hippogriff suddenly bent his scaly front knees, and sank into what was an unmistakeable bow.

“Well done, Harry!” said Hagrid, ecstatic. “Right – yeh can touch him! Pat his beak, go on!”

There was clapping and relieved sighs to be heard behind her now, and some whispers from the Slytherin side. Meanwhile Harry was very carefully patting Buckbeak who closed his eyes lazily, as though enjoying it. Amy was not paranoid to keep an eye for trouble. It was experience.

“Righ’ then, Harry,” said Hagrid, all enthusiasm,”I reckon he migh’ let yeh ride him! Yeh climb up there, jus’ behind the wing joint an’ mind yeh don’ pull any of his feathers out, he won’ like that..”

After he’d climbed up and Buckbeak stood up, Hagrid came up to the duo, quickly bowing to the Hippogriff who nodded back genially.

“Go on, then!” roared Hagrid, and slapped Buckbeak’s hindquarters.

Without warning, twelve-foot wings flapped open and she saw Harry seizing the Hippogriff around the neck while they were shooting upwards. They flew once around the paddock and then headed back to the ground, landing with heavy thuds as the two different pairs of feet hit the ground.

“Good work, Harry!” roared Hagrid, and Amy was trading excited looks with Riko while everyone except the Slytherins cheered. “OK, who else wants a go?”

Emboldened by Harry’s success, the class climbed into the paddock. Hagrid untied the Hippogriffs one by one, and soon people were bowing nervously all over the paddock. While she waited for Ron, who was practising on the chestnut, Amy looked around. Neville ran repeatedly backwards from his, which didn’t seem to want to bend its knees. Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle had taken over Buckbeak; he had just bowed to Malfoy, who was now patting his beak, looking his usual disdainful self. Right beside them Riko was waiting for her turn, looking around uneasily, last in line while Parkinson was patting the inky black Hippogriff.

“This is very easy,” Malfoy drawled, loud enough for Amy to hear him. “I knew it must have been, if Potter could do it.. I bet you’re not dangerous at all, are you?” he said to the Buckbeak. “Are you, you ugly great brute?”

It happened in a flash of grey feathers and movement too quick to see. Suddenly Riko was standing over Malfoy who was lying on the ground and letting out a high-pitched scream. She had her hands up in the universal gesture of peaceful surrender, staring fixedly at a rearing Buckbeak.

Next moment, Hagrid was wrestling the thick collar back onto Buckbeak, who gave a chiming scream, tossing his head angrily. The Hippogriff looked about as friendly as Amy’s house guardian when she’d last seen it, and Gloria had been trying to turn Riko into fine paste, at the time. Malfoy was still yelling, curled around his arm and there was.. oh, there was blood on a sharp, jagged bit of beige rock jutting out of the springy meadow. “I’m bleeding out, I can’t move my arm!” Malfoy howled, among other things, while everyone was still frozen. He was clearly well enough to scream bloody murder, so Amy’s eyes flew back to her friend.

Riko was drawing her shoulders in, holding her left arm close, entirely too much like after the griffin-debacle last year, right hand pressing down on the forearm. A thin stream of blood was running from her left elbow to the ground. With a loud curse, Amy ran over, ignoring the startled looks of the people she passed. Riko was biting her lips and had her eyes closed, so she was probably already healing herself, or trying to, but she was also staggering like drunk. Literally bloody goodness, why hadn’t she sat down?!

Amy put a hand on her shoulder to steady her and almost got an elbow to the head for it, as Riko gave a startled, inarticulate yell and then almost fell over. With her flailing there was now blood splattering from her arm onto the grass and bright rocks around them. It attracted attention even with Draco still yelling loudly in the background. Riko cursed like a sailor and straightened up, drawing her shoulders back, shooting Amy an exasperated look. Utterly uncalled for as it was, Amy still obliged, standing more discreetly while steadying her friend.

“I’m fine, just a stupid scratch, nothing to see here, move along now, arm still working perfectly fine, see..” Riko’s voice was sharp as she wriggled her fingers and wobbled her hand as if to show just how perfectly fine her hurt arm was still working.

The continuous dripping of bright red blood wasn’t helping her case, though. Amy sighed, seriously worried about her friend’s health, mental and physical, and the uncharacteristic anger too. And why wasn’t she healing her arm..? Oh.. right, healthy portion of paranoia, people staring, not a normal skill, right, suddenly the exasperated look made some sense, even if it was crazy sense. Amy gave a little squeeze where she held her friend at her lower back and whispered a short apology. Riko huffed and leaned against her. Then, before one of the gawkers could make the mistake of stepping too close or speaking up, thereby setting off a nasty explosion of Riko’s obviously stormy temper, Hagrid appeared, peering down at them sharply.

He was white as a sheet and had a similarly pale, curled up Malfoy in his large arms. “That’s no laughing matter, Riko, an’ it ain’t nothing by a long shot! I gotta get ’im to the Pomfrey, his elbow joint’s busted up.. you three there, make sure you bring her up quick, you there, open up there”

And he was gone, carrying a still-howling Malfoy up the slope to the castle at a startling speed. Amy looked pointedly at Harry and Ron and gently guided Riko towards the still-open gate of the paddock. Around them whispers were already starting up. Riko was moving stiffly, stealthily leaning against Amy’s hand and gritting her teeth. She also looked ready to tear someone’s throat out with her teeth and was shooting death glares at the ground in front of her, stumbling occasionally. And she was getting rather pale, too, fuck.

They hadn’t even made it to Hagrid’s hut when Ron said gloomily “Think one o’ them will think to take our stuff back?”

Amy shot him a glare over her shoulder and even Harry looked a little startled. How could Ron just take this entire mess so easy? At least he seemed to realize he’d been out of line and cleared his throat. Then, in an embarrassed sort of voice, he pointed out “Oi, you’re still leaking, y’know that?”

“I’m bloody feckin’ fine, y’ thickheaded ass, so fuck off,” Riko snarled without even turning around. “I can find the damn hospital wing no problem any bloody day o’th’week!”

Amy had to quickly step up as her friend put on more speed and almost lost her balance without Amy’s hand at her back. Ron was mouthing silently at her back but Harry had managed to keep him from answering by drawing him back at the shoulder and shaking his head. There was a tense silence stretching between them now and they didn’t make it very far at all before Riko’s movements were slowing again. Amy was getting increasingly worried. Riko was clearly not doing well but she also wasn’t going to accept any more help as it was, damnit!

How far _was_ it to the castle anyway, Amy was sure it had never taken them so long before! And what else was going on here, to have Riko in such a mood? And why did Hagrid have to tell Harry and Ron to come along; yes, he liked them all but..?! Then Harry opened his mouth and Amy just knew she had to stop him, silence was golden, at least here, obviously!

“I hope Malfoy will be alright,” she blurted out.

Harry looked like she’d just kicked Hedwig and Ron practically fell over his own feet, spluttering in anger before he managed a proper reply. “Are you mad?” he exclaimed, “It was his own fault!”

“Because clearly making a mistake or being rude are valid grounds for dismemberment..” remarked Riko nastily, not even looking back.

“Oh please, dismemberment, as if we’d be so lucky! He’s just trying to get Hagrid into trouble, the git!” Ron fumed angrily.

“Ron.. there were.. bits of bone sticking out of his elbow..” Harry said quietly, looking disturbed.

“Pft, bones are fixed easy enough,” Ron insisted. “Just ’cause that fraud disappeared yours last year y’don’t have to worry about that faking snake. Pomfrey told you, she can heal that with a simple charm!”

“Oh, yeah, f’course he’s just a faking snake, s’not like joints are easy to fuck up, specially if you ain’t grown out yet, right, and all sorts of nerves and shit to get fucked up, of _course_ a Slytherin would think it a _brilliant_ plan to get attacked and hurt, just to get Hagrid into trouble, solid risk-gain ratio _right there_ , clearly, no big deal at all! Y’know what, if _you_ ever want to get a teacher into trouble just give me a yell, I’ll help ya out alright!”

Riko had whirled around and was snarling right in Ron’s face, who clearly hadn’t expected to be suddenly faced with a raging mad nutter. Amy certainly hadn’t. It could not, however, be said, that Ron was one to back down, or even pause, ever. He snarled right back.

“Well, was you as pushed him and with how you’re both obviously still able to be loud and obnoxious it doesn’t seem a big deal to get a bit _dismembered_ , any means and all, yeah, and mental too, right now I could just knock you over with a feather and here you are yelling like it’s no big deal, so who’s the idiot here!”

Riko’d rocked back at his first point, but she immediately went back on the attack and there was a quality to her now, suddenly, that Amy had only noticed very few times before. Or rather it was an absence, of ..she wasn’t sure what it was, perhaps a slight distance? a sort of inclination to take things in stride?

“Oh _really_ ,” Riko growled, eyes hard and filled with a flat anger Amy had only seen once, before. She’d been in the hospital wing then, after her ambush in the bathroom, first year. It startled her so badly she froze.

“Y’wanna try, _Ronald_ , huh, you go right ahead, I’ll gut you right there an’ it won’t be a loss at all, yeh bloody useless idiot, can’t even take care of yer own little sis’ so why don’t ya just..”

Ron and Harry had blanched to pre-explosion pale and Amy felt her skin run cold, because with her usual humour removed, the sheer focus of Riko as she said it.. gods.. And of course Ron wasn’t going to be stopped, he was already opening his mouth to interrupt, fists clenched..

“SHUT UP!” Amy yelled at them all, shaking with fury now. This was _so_ far past any kind of acceptable, and as close to seriously dangerous as Riko suddenly seemed, she was also listing badly and looking like hell. She needed to get to Madam Pomfrey not start death feuds here!

“You two! Be quiet! Go back and make sure someone takes her bag, Nott probably did already but make sure! And take mine along to Binn’s!”

Harry and Ron were staring at her open-mouthed, not moving. “GO!” Amy yelled again, pointing the way, and turned to Riko, who was now stubbornly staring into the middle distance, lips pressed into an angry line.

“And you! Give me that arm, where is your handkerchief and your pocket knife, you’re _not_ going to keep bleeding over the whole grounds!”

Looking to the ground, Riko awkwardly gestured to her right outer pocket and meekly let Amy rip and cut at her sleeve and then put a proper pressure bandage on her arm. It was still a pretty nasty cut, but luckily the claws were so sharp there was no tearing. Harry and Ron had heeded her words, which was good. Amy had no compunction at all about taking the bandaged forearm and draping it over her shoulder. Now it was above the heart and she could properly drag her insane friend to Madam Pomfrey. Riko remained freakishly quiet and docile even when Amy hooked her other arm around her friend’s waist to take more of her weight. They were almost at the castle when Riko broke the silence. She’d been staring at the ground the entire way, looking miserable.

“I’m sorry, Amy,” she said, and she really sounded it, too. Amy knew her insane serpent of a friend truly was sorry. She also understood better how Edie must’ve felt yesterday. Being sorry didn’t change what had already happened.

“I wouldn’t really gut him.. or anyone, generally,” Riko said. And wasn’t it reassuring how she actually thought _that_ was the thing she had to point out? And wasn’t it _just as_ reassuring that Amy didn’t dismiss the very idea out of hand?

“I know,” Amy sighed. She did, after all. “It wasn’t why I got so mad, just, I’m just worried, alright. You’ve been off all day, and then getting all worked up and bleeding all over the place, I just worry, specially after your Nott seemed all worried too..”

“Oh, that,” Riko said, looking a shade of uncomfortable Amy hadn’t even seen before. “I just.. I slept badly, fell right outta bed, way early, which made a bit of a racket, and only Targhin and Lannis had to be up for first, too, so I went to the common room and I think that was the first time the Malfoy owl didn’t leave from an errand to me insulted because of a too-small window, and then I thought well, alright, a set of darts, excellent, y’know, keep myself busy, and then everyone just, I dunno, didn’t want to disturb? I have no clue..”

Amy was silent for a moment. It sounded like Riko actually didn’t know. She was leaving things out, yes, but not about that. But then, although they had played a few dozen times at most, both at the Latch and her home, Amy knew how Riko got about darts. It was really funny, as in humorous, because what with her so-called healthy paranoia Riko often controlled every little twitch, right down to her body-language. But somehow throwing things always showed what was really going on, if she was tense or relaxed or bothered. How deep the darts went was really only one indicator but it was the most obvious, and in Slytherin.. well..

“And..?” she said, because surely that wasn’t it. Riko sighed again.

“Well, Tony was in a mood because she couldn’t settle down again and Draco and the two were only too happy to entertain, k’so, dunno why they were even awake yet, so I skipped breakfast ’cause I had to put away the darts and get my stuff and.. I just.. I thought it’d be better if I didn’t y’know, look like I was.. going for an in, before..”

Riko shrugged awkwardly and Amy could feel how tense she was against her side. Oh honestly, this was so.. Slytherin, seeing angles everywhere, and then with Riko’s paranoia.. heck it was probably a wonder she’d shown her face at all, she seemed a step from petrified..

Amy shuddered a little at the thought, not at all keen to recall that bit of last year, and spoke as calmly as she could to reassure her friend. “Riko, you really needn’t be so scared about that talk, you said it wasn’t actively terrible, right, and it can’t really be that bad or you’d have told us already, y’know, if it were trouble. We’ll probably take longer to deal with the problem of Edie’s parents and the stubs, and that’s not even that hard, I mean, we could find a way to let them think people were climbing their roof and littering or something. Or maybe we could actually find a way to get Edie to tell them if we go with..”

Riko’s short laugh was hollow and mirthless and Amy fell quiet, getting more worried by the second. This was a lot like the distant, cold-edged Riko from the end of last year, just without the focus, and somehow that only made it more worrisome. Her friend took a deep breath and started to draw herself up again, now that they were almost at the Entrance. Amy sighed, internally, and rearranged her arms obligingly to prevent Riko from trying to walk on her own, wary of what her friend was getting at now.

“Not an opportune moment for that sort of thought, Amy,” Riko said drily and if Amy hadn’t felt her right against her side she would’ve thought her a million miles away. Her friend continued in a quiet, bitter tone, completely unlike her usual self and not only because of the air of self-recrimination. “This entire mess is one big case of it, k’so, this is the biggest heap of inopportune moments ever! _Edie_ is _angry_ , and of course I manage _that_ special sort of achievement just when I can’t _not_ tell, bloody feckin shit, I shoulda, hah, right, what’s the point’a _that_..”

Amy looked over sideways when Riko trailed off, but her friend was only staring ahead, jaw clenched shut as if to hold everything in. Oh, this was _so_ not good. It was a silent treck to the first floor. At least it was during lessons so they didn’t run into anyone, but it only made silence heavier. When they rounded the corner towards the hospital wing they saw Hagrid standing at the door, wringing his hands and pacing. He looked almost as distraught as he had during the Norbert-era. Riko hastily drew back from Amy and promptly almost fell over. Amy rolled her eyes and put her hand again at her friend’ lower back. At least Riko was holding her forearm up to her shoulder.

When Hagrid noticed them he was right with them in just a few great strides, still wringing his hands and looking terribly pale.

“Hey Hagrid,” Riko said, sounding suddenly entirely normal. “Alright there? Sorry we took a while, I got sorta short with Potter and Weasley and Amy here had to step in..”

And there was the dependable, easygoing Riko, switched on like a light. It was eerie to watch because if she hadn’t just seen her friend all but go off the rails, Amy might have actually believed the performance. Hagrid certainly seemed to.

“S’aright, kids, shoulda came t’get yeh, but the Pomfrey’s still at it, he’s still in pain and can’t bend it prop’ly.. first lesson.. and for it to be _Malfoy_ , Merlin, if ’e can’t use ’is arm no more..” He was wringing his hands and Amy realized only now yet another reason this entire mess was so terrible, was eating at Riko like that. Her friend was even paler, now, and she hadn’t been bleeding any more for a while. But she held up, going, by the looks of it, into full reassurance mode.

“Well, don’t worry about Malfoy troubles, Hagrid, Madam Pomfrey’s sure to get him fixed, she’s real good and she’s got experience with elbows,” she wriggled her own arm as if to prove the point, then gave a shrug that looked utterly relaxed. It was starting to freak Amy out.

“Besides,” Riko continued, “was me as pushed him, so clearly it’s not your fault at all and it’s perfectly normal if it takes a while for a joint to heal.. Just, did you talk to the headmaster yet? ’Cause you should probably do that first, y’know, just so he knows what’s up when he gets a grumpy owl later.. ”

Just like during the Norbert-mess, Hagrid was looking torn between wanting to believe and not daring to. Amy hoped Riko was right, there were points that could be argued, but, well, bringing them up now wouldn’t help, so she jumped in.

“Riko’s right, Hagrid, you should tell Dumbledore right away, I’m sure Madam Pomfrey will let you know of any changes, and I read all about joints and it’s real unlikely that it takes longer than a few weeks at most, and that’s only if you’re real unlucky, and you have to get ready for the next lesson after, too, right?”

“Right.. right, sheesh, dunno what I was thinkin’, hones’ly,” Hagrid said, visibly gathering himself. “Good, yer better gettin’ in there, Riko, but yer lookin’ well enough, well done Amy, five points ter Gryffindor, now run along and get to yer next lesson, eh, be good now..”

And he strode off with new purpose. Amy threw a cautious look at Riko, only to have her friend stare back with a sheepish smile, as if everything was just as it looked. What on earth..?

“Ta, I’m good now. See you later at our place, yeah?” Riko said, then turned to the door and opened it in a way that, while awkward-looking, was very quick and competent. The door closed and Amy was left standing in the quiet hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, sorry, but I really do find it highly unlikely that nobody managed to get their monster book to cooperate, especially people who live with magical families and grew up magical AND have SOME kind of interest in monsters. And really, if even one of them finds out they will tell at LEAST one friend, and yes that will spread. So, yeah.  
> And also, yes, Professor Burbage is an average wizard dude, this is not on accident, nor especially relevant, I just decided it. And anyone surprised Amy will be impatient with an obviously fraudulent and at least mildly antagonistic teacher can, uh, I dunno.. be surprised I think? But really, who on earth would be surprised at this, I mean.. its Amy.. and a stressed Amy at that..


	7. Boiling Points

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clearly, having all of it out while everyone is so stressed, in a castle freshly surrounded by dementors, is not ideal. And, well, everyone has their touchy subjects, don´t they, and then there´s the whole sender-receiver problem, especially in less-than-ideal situations, and sometimes Murphy just really really likes to have his day..

Vi soon regretted holing up in the library to get finished on her Arithmancy homework, well before she had to head to History of Magic. It’d seemed a good idea (hah) at the time, a way to check that Edie was alright and make sure she didn’t get into trouble. And, well, that at least hadn’t failed completely. Not that it had worked all that well, either. Which, well, wasn’t surprising. Edie had clearly decided to stew in angry silence until they had that ominous talk, she’d made that clear during Arithmancy. And then Potions with Snape, well, that certainly hadn’t helped Edie’s mood. Vi’s neither, but that was rather beside the root of the problem right now.

It was the strangest thing, Snape could never be called mellow, but the sharp coldness he had displayed today, to the class at large and Edie in particular, that was just plain weird for him. Vi wasn’t going to jump to conclusions, at first, really didn’t want to. Perhaps he had a cold or a bad day or whatever. But it was a damn strong hint, when he at first ignored Edie completely, and then over the course of the entire lesson didn’t come closer than a few feet even when grading their potions.

The potions master was quite unreadable at the best of times, but today his face was a mask of stiff, waxy paper. His eyes glinted far more wary than usual, and not his standard I-tolerate-no-nonsense-here kind, either, more like the grim gloom she’d seen towards the end of last year. No matter what else was going on, he appeared to know about Edie; and he wasn’t taking it well. It made Vi dislike that Lupin fellow even more, clearly he had something to do with this development. Or his presence here had, but, same thing, really. Still made her wonder why and who had told Snape, or if he’d deduced it. And what exactly was bothering him so about it.

Not that it’d change shit, or that she had a chance to find out now. Not like she didn’t have other things to worry about, either. Shit, this library-plan had been a really bad idea. The Arithmancy stuff had been very basic but even so it had taken her a while, because this entire day was just bad. She’d slept badly, woken badly (and far too early), and everything so far had also been bad news, from Riko’s weird antics so far to the two classes that had been differently bad, to the tense lonesome lunch, to sitting here in the dusty gloom of this damn, literal tomb of knowledge.

It would’ve been better to take a nap or go outside to watch Hagrids first lesson, but she couldn’t leave after starting her stalkerish vigil here. Edie was bound to worry or take it the wrong way. Or both. Well, at least she had that homework finished now, and started in on the stupid Potions stuff, too. With a short sigh Vi stuffed the last of her things in her bag and watched Edie walk out, headed for wherever. It was going to be paired with Riko, and that only made her worry more. She knew what Riko was trying to do, the polite distance tour, but there _was_ too much of a good thing..

When Vi arrived at History (a very short walk, as Binn’s room had settled somewhere in its usual stretch on the third floor today) all the Gryffindors were already there, standing in little groups and whispering. Great. From their looks it was not a good thing they were going on about. Yeah, bad day, alright. Amy looked dishevelled and harassed and was pulling on a strap on her bag. As they entered she was throwing a tense look at Vi and sitting in the third row. That was clear enough, so Vi sat down beside her. Amy had bloodstains on her sleeves.

“So, who did you have a go at?” Vi inquired drily, shooting a pointed look at one of the bigger ones.

She was glad she’d talked quietly, even with the rest of the classroom still shuffling about. Amy was clearly disturbed when she followed Vi’s look. Ah, and there she went, putting her foot in her mouth, ugh, bad day alright. Riko would’ve found that funny. Amy clearly didn’t.

“We had Care of Magical Creatures,” Amy said to the desk. “Malfoy was rude to the Hippogriff and Riko shoved him away and now they’re both in the hospital wing. Riko had a nasty cut, Malfoy’s elbow hit a rock and..”

Amy trailed off, but she didn’t really need so say any more. Under the circumstances even Riko wouldn’t find this funny, probably.

“Well damn,” Vi sighed resignedly.

Amy nodded. Then, after gnawing her lip for a while and completely ignoring Binns in the process, she looked over. “She’s really scared,” she said, then hastily looked at the blackboard the first time ever, not like there was anything on it to be seen, what with Binns being a ghost. Vi didn’t have a reply to that, but the cold knot in her guts was growing.

“Hm, she said it wasn’t actively terrible,” Vi pointed out, but it sounded as unconvincing out loud as it had in her head.

Amy seemed to think so too. “She also said she was fine while bleeding all over the paddock. She’s always fine, isn’t she, or alright at the very least.”

They shared a look. It was a long, gloomy lesson and afterwards, despite having taken notes, Vi had no idea at all what it had been about. It was a very short walk towards their room. Vi had wanted, still wanted, all of this to be over and done with already, but suddenly she also wanted it to still be morning, or even last week.

They were first to arrive, unsurprisingly, it was on the same floor and they’d scouted the third floor well enough to know most all of the secret passages and short-cuts. The room was still the same and obviously still on the house elves list of rooms to be cleaned. Vi cast Scutum Strepiti on all the doors, but even then she still felt itchy and nervous. Having checked the fireplace, the two wardrobes, and even the drawers of the old-fashioned desk in the office didn’t help much, so she started putting her small notification tripwire charms on all the doors, even those to the staircase and then in the classroom below them. Even so she came back up to Amy still pacing alone in the office.

Turned out there was more than enough room for two to pace. Somehow it just didn’t seem a good idea to go into their usual base, yet. Not like anything was usual, right now. Then Edie arrived, making them both jerk to face the door that lead to the armour gallery. She did not look well and her mood seemed to be worse than before. It got even more so when she at first looked around, obviously for an absent Riko, then suddenly rocked back, drawing her hand to cover her nose. Staring at Amy. Oh..

“Oh.. oh no, I’m so sorry, Edie,” Amy said, eyes wide as she flushed dark up to her roots.

Vi felt extremely stupid, she really should have thought of that, too! Amy was already hastily aiming Tergeos and then Scourgifys at her hands and the stains on her robes, so Vi busied herself opening the two big windows and encouraging a light breeze to clean the air. Aeronovia was known to irritate her friend’s nose and, err, no. Edie was inside and closing the door by then, but she was slow to really enter the room. Of course. Vi had smelled a fourth year’s nosebleed across the entire Ravenclaw common room once, polyjuiced as her friend, and as a version of about the same time from the full moon, too. At the time she’d almost retched from the sheer intensity of it.

Edie clearly had more practise, she drew herself up, looking only a little pale. “The Slytherins said Riko and Malfoy got attacked by a mad Hipogriff,” she said, looking at Amy in a way that was both accusing and just generally upset. It looked very strange on their usually so calm and rational friend.

Amy turned a rather different kind of red at the words, even with her skin darker than Vi’s it was easy to recognize a classic Gryffindor justice red. “That’s not what.. well, Malfoy was rude to Buckbeak, the Hippogriff, and Riko got in the way and he landed badly.. she had a pretty nasty cut on the arm but.. she wasn’t in Herbology? She said she was fine.. she didn’t look..”

Great. Now Amy and Edie were both getting worked up. Vi took a deep breath to remind them of being rational despite her own worry. But then, Vi’s worry wasn’t so much about a cut from a Hippogriff attack, she had no doubt Riko could deal with something like that well enough. Which actually illustrated nicely what Vi _was_ worrying about. But she didn’t have to intervene and stop them from heading for the hospital wing; Riko chose that very moment to barge in, looking at least as dishevelled and harassed as Amy earlier.

When she saw they were here instead of the room proper, she almost stumbled back against the door, instantly apologizing. Then Edie backed away from _her_ and suddenly Riko was apologizing even more, aiming her wand at.. oh, right, of course..

“Kusotarre, bloody f’ckn chog-oh.. I’m so sorry, Edie, verdammt.. a’right, done,” Riko showed her hands, raised them shortly in the usual gesture of surrender, and let her wand fall back into her freshly cleaned if still partly shredded sleeves. “Sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to make you wait, I got Pomfreyd, see, the cut was all fixed and then she starts with ‘oh, your colour doesn’t look good at all, dear’ and next thing I get a blood replenishing potion and that must’ve been off a bit or something and yeah, in the end she said I should just lie back and have bit of a rest, seriously.. I barely got away _now_ , and not without another potion and bloody chocolate and that was with cover of Draco..”

Riko’s face drew in an exaggerated grimace and she rolled her eyes, then waved her hands around for added effect. Then, as if to settle the subject, she drew them back through her hair, making it stand up even more than usual, ending with fingers playing behind her neck. Next, in a sudden movement, she stretched her arms before her, hands together even after stretching her fingers. What the.. oh, very much away from.. Circe’s cup, just how nervous was she..?

“So, welcome to today’s special, no-secret-left-behind, reavealo extravaganza,” Riko grinned, looking a bit like a demented skull. And well, that answered that, then..

“Alright, let’s get started with the thestrals,” Vi said quickly, turning to face all three of them. Because there were trainwrecks and then there were _trainwrecks_. “Brilliant creatures, falsely accused as bad omens like about a third or so of all known creatures, according to sources. Can only be seen by someone who’s witnessed death, as I’m sure everyone knows by now,” Vi was looking only at Edie, intending to drive that point home.

It was all well and good for Riko to try and take the road that avoided even the slightest suspicion of Slytherin slyness, but Vi wasn’t going to let her friend sabotage herself. Now Edie was looking away, so she felt she had to hold out an olive branch while still keeping her point. “Now, I’m really sorry none of us mentioned it before, but obviously Riko didn’t know and it just didn’t seem a thing to bring up, y’know, there was other stuff going on, it was no intentional slight, really..”

Vi gestured vaguely, then drew herself up. Took a flat breath. Time to properly face this. She had dealt with her family since forever, and after the last few weeks with Riko there.. well, this was entirely different. These were her friends. They could know. She could tell them. Right.

“So, I was seven, only just got my wand for a few weeks, and I’ve always been curious, snuck around a lot, all sort of rooms that little kids shouldn’t get into. Was only a question of time, really. So one day I was sneaking ’round the basement again, y’know, always great with all the secret passages, and through to one of the warestores, and that was being used already..”

She could’ve probably left it at that, the implications were clear enough, but what had Riko said, revealo-extravaganza, well, it was a matter of principle now. Edie wanted to know, and besides, from what Riko had said about wanting to tell.. well, Vi wasn’t going to do this halfway.

“He was just one of the hired helpers,” she said matter-of-factly. “I’d seen him a few times at most, never talked of course, whatever, just another sqib goon. Bit young for it, but well.. Apparently his name was Jonny and he’d been selling stuff on the side. Maybe, or maybe he didn’t, not like it made a difference in the end, he certainly started admitting to anything and everything after a while..”

Vi was staring straight ahead, at the empty shelf across the room. Took a deep breath. Checked her stance to be a tolerable sort of ready, hands at her sides, back straight. Voice even, that was always important. It was very silent and she didn’t want to even see who was looking at her now, or how.

“I got caught of course, a while after. I’d just stayed there, not moved at all. I’d just had to see it after I heard something there,” Vi couldn’t stop a bone-dry smile that was all self-irony. But that was really enough now, better get back to sanity now. As it was, anyway.

“And once I looked over that crate I wasn’t going to.. I couldn’t look away, I just couldn’t.. it’d have been worse.” So much worse, she thought, but kept that back, not the point here, this was about facts. “So yeah, I got found later, still sitting there. Not looking at the.. spot, but at the time I wasn’t quite as.. as I am today,” she tried, hoping it made sense. Still not looking at them, though. End this first. “I didn’t really get into trouble as such, just.. it just sped up a few things as would’ve come later. Which, no offence, is a bit beside the point and all. So, there you go, Vi can see thestrals, in a few easy steps..”

Vi almost winced at that last line, but it had really made itself, and she wasn’t going to get teary-eyed or whatever over this. She’d dealt with it ages ago, she’d dealt with everything since, she had a handle on herself, thank you very much. Her friends better get that, better keep that in mind.

The silence stretched and now Vi was crossing her arms, allowed herself that, because this was not something she was going to back away from, or even _could_. It just was as it was. Riko was staring down at her hands, fingers twisted into a messy knot, only looking up for a short moment. It was enough, though, and Vi allowed herself to relax at least a little. Her friend hadn’t nodded, or smiled, or given much notice at all, but she had understood. Not just what Vi had told them, and not told them, too, probably, but she got that it just was what it was. No change, Vi was still Vi.

Edie looked a step from being ill, so pale was she, and with her arms wrapped around herself like that, clearly miserable. As if she.. oh, Merlins’s balls, as if she felt bad for asking now! Vi wanted to throw her hands up in despair, that had not been the point at all, damn it _all_! Amy had her arms wrapped around herself, too, but she wasn’t looking ill, she had her thinking-matters-through face on. She’d looked at Vi only for a moment, too. Not much differently from yesterday, on the train, sympathetic, and worried, and very unsure.

Then, clearly noting the uneasy shuffling from both Riko and Edie, Vi’s trainwreck-sense was already tingling again, the girl that had reportedly, diagnosed by her own head-of-house, as much Gryffindor chivalry and good sense in her left hand as her entire house combined, spoke up, clearly, straight-up, just like that.

“Well, I can’t see thestrals, but I have something I can’t tell you,” Amy said, one arm still wrapped around herself, hand tugging on her current mess of bushy locks. Then, biting her lip, she loped a thin, golden chain over her head, slapping something on the desk. It was.. a tiny, sparkling hourglass in a fancy, very intricate mounting, bit like a mobile sun-dial.. was that..?

“Is that..?” Vi was too stunned to properly continue.

Amy nodded. “Of course I couldn’t tell you, but I always knew you’d find out.” she said, nervously wringing her hands before quickly taking the chain back and hiding it under her robes. “Now, by order of the Ministry, if anyone were to find out about my time-turner, I have to make sure there is no risk of it getting out. I think that’s settled.”

Amy took a deep breath, then ran her hands over her face and back through her mane. Vi took a similarly deep breath, because Morgana’s tits, that was.. Amy had to have signed a binding contract, a Ministry contract, and for that she’d have needed a sponsor to back her, that couldn’t have been her parents or her family in general, they were all muggles, bloody shite! And she’d just.. _Circe!_ The hexes she could’ve triggered, even doing it like that, Nimue’s kirtle!

Not to mention.. an honest to Chronos time-turner, hot _damn!_ The price that would fetch if, heck, if you’d even sell it, not keep it and..

“They’re rather risky, mostly for the user though, really, otherwise I don’t think I’d have got one, ever, even with Professor McGonagall’s help,” Amy said seriously and yeah, that answered that then.

“See, they can only sustain a timeline for so long, like a.. like a small side-arm of a river, it has to flow back. And also, for that you can’t do any crazy, well, forks, y’know, because otherwise you’re too far away to get back or something.. it’s a bit fiddly and wobbly really, but anyway..” And now there was their usual Amy peaking through, her sheer excitement and enthusiasm shining through all the worry, all the responsibility. Even with the entire situation still a Greek tragedy waiting to happen, Amy just couldn’t help it. Well, she already _had_ helped, a great deal.

“Clearly I can’t just start to do any.. any premeditated acts of illegal nature or anything of the sort,” she made a face and winked as she said it, and Vi thought that nobody who had ever seen her like that could call her a teacher’s pet again. But then, this was _their_ Amy, nobody else’s. “But of course that doesn’t really, err.. change all the potential, if you know what I mean..” The look of anarchistic glee on her face would have usually fit on Riko, but Vi could only agree. This was utterly brilliant, as was Amy for using it like that, introducing it like that, just _everything_.

“All right, no doubt there, Amy,” Vi said gratefully, smiling warmly at her friend and companion in sanity for today. It had shifted the mood completely and given Riko a much better chance to start telling her whatever.

Their little Slytherin nutter seemed very aware of it too. “Thanks, Amy,” she said and Vi wasn’t quite sure she’d ever heard that much raw, honest gratitude from her friend. Certainly not mixed with that much dread and forlorn misery.

“So,” Riko started anew, this time less like a demented skull and more like a condemned keeping her chin up while ascending the scaffold. “Let’s go for it.. alright.. it started, it’s a bit convoluted, I’ll just start chronologically, right.” She seemed to gather herself again, drawing her hands back through her hair and then putting them on the back of one of the chairs in front of the desk, gripping it tightly. “So, that bright and fateful day when we first met and there were some reasonable questions about the Slyvers and such..? I left out.. there’s quite a lot I left out, in that short story.. I.. that night, I was the only one to come out of it alive.”

Whatever Vi might have suspected, that had definitely not been it. Riko didn’t look any more disturbed than that day she’d told them, a bitter smile playing around an unusually grim mouth. Vi had thought she might’ve lost someone of their estate, back then, but that.. Riko’d always seemed happy when talking about or just mentioning her family in any way... what..?

“It was.. it was thanks to Ma, she sort of.. cast through me or something, and that way I was safe, and she could go and look after Da.. it was a Harro.. a really big artillery spell.. pretty much levelled the mountain.. I don’t really remember after Ma left, not clearly..”

Vi blinked, trying to make proper sense of the words, of the content, of anything here, and failed. Riko’s shrugged, but.. odd, and it wasn’t just because she was leaning on the chair as if she’d keel over otherwise. She looked off, removed, cool and distant in a way Riko never was, ever. But she continued, in a matter of fact tone that set Vi’s teeth on edge.

“I woke up next.. evening, or night, to my uncle, well, Uncle Kal woke me, really. He.. well, he made sure I was alright, y’know, wanted to know what happened, that sort of thing..”

 _That sort of thing_ .. Vi almost shook her head at the dry words, but Riko seemed content to just go on being all _impossible_.

“I was.. I just wanted to know how long it’d take, and to make sure I’d never be that.. _that useless_ again. He’d said it wouldn’t ’ve made a difference and all, but, well, that, and I didn’t.. I wasn’t going to.. I wasn’t going to be a ward or someone _else’s_ kid, I was, I _am_ _theirs_ after all.”

And that, right there, that stubborn, eerily, disturbingly normal-for-Riko logic, applied like that, in that utterly non-Riko-like, flatly honest way, still all matter-of-fact, even traces of dry humour. It was scary in a way even the last few weeks hadn’t been. Was Riko even sane, at all, seriously?

“So, and that’s the good thing with him, he’s known Darshu so long, and Mum’s really not that different there, so he knows when not to, y’know, he knows when something is a good idea to agree to, and keep a distance. So he set me up with a sensei, Shizuka-sensei..”

Riko shrugged, still staring at the window, still leaning like that, still looking all sorts of wrong. But there was a distant sort of fondness in her tone when she said the name, as always, and then a short pause, as if she was hesitating over something. She’d half-closed her eyes and Vi just _knew_ her friend recalled the words of before, the special-no-secrets-left-behind-revealo-extravaganza.

“On the way, it wasn’t far really, to Hokkaido, just one island over, and I guess he thought travelling a bit might help calm me, I mean it did, but anyway, on the way I met.. I met a friend, Cheshu.. she was.. stars and shadows.. she was really something, bit younger’n me and she came along so we started at Shizuka’s together and it was really.. really alright..”

From the way Riko paused at those last two words, and Vi knew her well enough to read the usually-hidden traces of not-so-bright, not-generally-shown feelings, lost and angry and hurt in equal measure.. with a sinking, cold certainty Vi suddenly knew that it was going to get worse. Worse than _that_ , it was.. how could it be worse, she wanted to ask, to yell, but at the same time she just didn’t want to know, as if knowing it would make it.. real.

She noticed only then she was holding her breath, and it seemed so was everyone else, she could’ve heard a pin drop so tense was the silence. She realized she’d dropped into quicktime when Riko took a breath that seemed much too long to be possible.

“Yeah, so, Cheshu and I learned lots of stuff, ninja and just in general, and it wasn’t easy but it was pretty great. Uncle Kal came by a year after, Uncle Gara, too, but he was nice enough to only stop by for a quick hello, he.. he really liked Ceshu, invited her and all, well, of course he would.. anyway..”

Whatever had sparked that little spark of warmth, it was tucked away as Riko paused again, only for a moment, but Vi could actually see her friend locking up, closing in on herself. When she spoke again, her eyes and tone were flat and dead neutral. No doubting that sanity any more, even if it was not the sort of sanity Vi or any normal person might like to admit to recognize.

“Anyway, second winter, Shizuka sensei got ill and died; pretty fast, too, I always thought.. but anyway.. the others there, oh, there were others, y’know, disciples and stuff, anyway, they took it badly and.. and things escalated, which, well, anyway, so I told Cheshu to hold on, y’see, we were on the cliff, where they’d lit the pyre and I thought, well, I didn’t think obviously, else we could’ve.. Anyway, short summary, we got hit, I lost control of the flight-spell and we fell..”

The anger that had sneaked into Riko’s voice was as alien as her dead tone just moment earlier, but it was also something to recognize. It was a brittle, bitter sort of anger, and Vi wished she couldn’t already see where this was going, but she recalled the end of last year well enough.

“Into the river,” Riko continued after a flat breath, voice level again, but losing nothing of that terrible broken tone. “’Course we could’ve, should’ve slipped into the shadows, if we’d got it right, or even kept calm to think of it, but, well, when I came to, it was freezing, I was freezing, and Cheshu was.. not going to wake up again. I had to use river stones to bury her.. if you want to call it bury, that is. Nothing to be done though, not like I was gonna just..”

And there it was again, that shrug. Vi wanted to grip her friend by the shoulders and shake her, shake her out of it, just make her stop in general, but somehow she could only stand there, as if frozen to the spot, and listen.

Riko, meanwhile, had found back to her previous, laconic tone, all matter-of-fact and eerie calm. “So, after that, I thought.. well, not much to be honest, or not well, but I snuck back and I’m not sure if they were out searching or having a party or whatever, but I got to the.. I got in to talk, sort of, to the kami, or at it.. in any case, they did give me the fangs and I really don’t.. I don’t know what they did or is still doing but I don’t _want_ to know what happened to them. I don’t.”

Vi had no doubt this was exactly as true as it was not, and she knew that sort of feeling well enough that she had to fight a shiver.

Riko, in contrast, actually drew herself together a little, traces of her sharp, ironic humour slipping into her tone and bearing. “S’where Korra is from, actually, I’m her job, or rather, the fangs are. We get along well enough now, y’know, professional friendship sort of thing. So, yeah, that done, curse finished so to speak, I left airwards, solid strategy usually and I’d had it trained in well enough, before, and.. anyway, after a while I had to land, damn blizzard, and I dunno what that kami thought, probably didn’t care particularly, and I’m sure Korra thought me a complete idiot for quite a while after, too.”

And now Riko was actually smiling, at least sort of, that same small, ironic, self-deprecating smile she had when saying ‘it seemed a good idea at the time’. It was freaking Vi out because it made everything that much more real, made it no different from the last few weeks and that..

“Walking or flying during a blizzard, just generally being somewhere not-inside-by-a-fire, is a very bad idea, let’s just leave it at that,” Riko said, her dry smirk both visible and audible as she shrugged again. “So, next time I woke up, or that I at least sort of recall waking up, I was in the fine company of a handful sleepy or sleeping komainu.”

There was another short pause, Vi was digging through her memory, she knew that word, but.. ah, yes, hadn’t Hagrid said.. right. Riko meanwhile had drawn herself up towards normal even further, distractedly tugging some hair behind her ear, again looking hesitant before, ah, right, names.

“Kumomaru’s pack found me in their territory, more or less frozen stiff,” Riko said, looking hardly different from normal at all now, though she was again leaning with both hands on the chair. From how tightly she was gripping it, she was doing it with full, stubborn awareness, too, to present a clear sign of peace, hands visible and all, Circe, she really was insane even when sane..

“Akishou did, to be exact, but anyway, once I was awake they were of course very curious. Korra hadn’t told them much at all, and they’re just.. really good people, y’know, I mean komainu mostly are, but that pack.. yeah, they’re just all kinds of alright.. I was with them after meeting with my uncle, this summer, when I mailed you, ’cause they’re at least as much distant family as Lord Malfoy, really, so, yeah, anyway..”

Vi didn’t miss the reflexive, honestly involuntary distraction, because she knew her friend well enough to recognize those by now, no matter what all she hadn’t known, hadn’t even guessed. It was a bad sign and Vi was very damn aware of the point Riko had left the narrative, how lightly she’d brushed over it, even in that stupid special-no-secrets-left-behind-revealo-extravaganza-mode. Circe’s circle, and there she went on, with the sardonic shrug, the self-deprecating humour.

“I stayed with them for a while, I was in a pretty bad state for a bit and they’d sort of adopted me, and then of course they wanted to teach me all sorts of things, because pups have to _learn_ after all, that sort of thing, and it.. it really helped, too. I wasn’t, y’know, alright, for a while..”

“ _Not alright”_.. Vi felt her eye twitch at the dry admission, shit, what state would Riko have been in to actually admit she wasn’t alright.. what did that even entail? Vi wanted a description, some solid info, Morgana’s song, but at the same time she didn’t, she really, really didn’t want to know. Riko seemed entirely oblivious to this, continuing on in that dry, matter-of-fact tone.

“Then, sometime over the summer after, Uncle Kal showed up. He’d had a bit of a shock, I suppose, when he showed up at.. there, but he was pretty good about it, didn’t.. we just had a serious talk about.. about learning and planning and all that, and I had a talk with the pack, and I think he had to pull quite a favour but he did set me up with.. with Eliria-sensei..” another absent smile flit by, “That was really.. I really owe him for that, ’cause, I mean, I learned a lot with Shizuka, and with Kumomaru’s lot, but that was mostly.. skills, or tricks, just.. knowledge, y’know, not.. not living or I dunno, maybe it was because even with Kumomaru we’d been mostly local, y’know..”

“Eliria-sensei, well, we travelled from there to Tibet, via most of inbetween, I mean, we didn’t exactly _walk_ ’f course, and it wasn’t like with, like before, but it was all.. this is the _world_ , y’know, there’s all of _this_ , and so much _more_ , and everything was a lesson, could be asked or explored, I mean, she’s not even a native of this world and I’m still sort of convinced she knows everything..” Riko’s smile was one of shy wonder and Vi was gripped by an irrational anger, at this Eliria or maybe her friend or.. she wasn’t sure.

But Riko was still talking. “So, yeah, that went really well, I think Eliria was rather glad of that, too, and with her.. review, so to speak, Uncle Kal didn’t really have a reason to not go along with my plan, ’cause I’d made a pretty good case, let him talk first and all, so I got my one year of walk-about, and that worked out just fine, too, and then I got my letter, just as planned I might add, and that was really just..”

As she spoke, Riko had become pretty much her normal self again, still tense and gripping the back of the chair, yes, and with pieces you could only see by looking at the holes that hid them, the shape of the unsaid, but mostly she was just Riko as Vi knew her, including her warm enthusiasm for anything she considered great. Apparently there had been quite some great there, at least in Riko’s view. Which was freaky in and of itself, too, but now, now she was faltering again, as if unsure how to end this tale. Again shrugging uneasily, looking lost in her own tale.

“Getting here wasn’t that hard, I do have my Dad’s key to Gringotts thanks to Uncle Kal, so it was just finding a good place to stay, which wasn’t hard either, and getting my things, which, well, anyone can manage _that_ , and I’m set to meet with Uncle Kal, of course, always that day, so, y’know, he can be sure I’m alright and I can not-ask if he’s heard anything yet about them being back, I mean, he said no more than fifteen years but still..” Another shrug and every sign of humour was gone, leaving Riko a taut, still shape by the chair. “Anyway, yeah, so that’s it, and how I spent my summers, too, and I’m.. I’m really sorry, alright, I should’ve.. I was always waiting for an opportune moment, but.. well, now you know..”

Silence reigned.

Vi didn’t know what to think, couldn’t seem to make proper sense of it all, had no idea where to even start. And as it went on, the stunned silence seemed to gain weight, a gravity, a sort of accusing quality. Like if Vi were just a little smarter she could say the right thing and.. what?

Make everything better? No, certainly not, but she just knew that the wrong thing now would be terrible. And the longer it was quiet, the more certain Vi was that whatever she could possibly say wouldn’t just be the wrong thing, it’d be exactly the worst thing possible.

“So the entire time.. you’ve been lying to us..” Edie said from behind her in a quiet, shocked tone and Vi flinched.

So did Riko, worse even, and no wonder, as wrong as it looked, her friend rocking back like that when usually, no matter what, she made a point of either moving up against anything, or dodging it like water. But if it’d been disturbing to have Riko be so very herself during her tale, Edie’s calm, distant fact-tone now, and starting with those words.. oh no, nonono..

The hiss of a sharp intake of breath from herself was overlaid by the same sound from Riko and Vi could only watch as her friend, her insane, bright twin took that hit. The hurt was quite visible if you knew to look, but Riko just raised her chin and calmly addressed Edie. It was about as sane as ignoring a bleeding wound, and, well, wasn’t that just like her, literally even.

“No, I didn’t,” Riko said. Not hastily, not defensively, it was a statement, not one that made her happy obviously, and there was heavy, tired shame in it, lending it a quiet, weak quality. There was something else too, but Vi couldn’t figure it out yet and she was so derailed from this development she could only watch as Riko continued in that same weird tone.

“I never once told you a lie, I didn’t. I wasn’t as honest as I might’ve liked, or as you’d.. I left out a lot, yes, I admit that, but I did tell you what I could. And yes, I didn’t correct your assumptions when.. but that doesn’t change what you do know, what I did tell you, Edie, I didn’t.. I wouldn’t.. I’m sorry, I meant to.. I’m sorry..”

There was an inarticulate sound from behind her that had Vi turn instinctively, just enough to keep an eye on everything. Unfortunately it also, yet again, derailed what little sense or analysis she’d been able to draw from all of this. Edie had her hands balled at her side, from the looks of it ready to be very vocal, but Amy had put a hand on her arm, stepping in.

“Edie.. Riko, listen, I believe you, I do, but this.. this isn’t.. it’s not ok, you can’t just live like that,” Amy gestured vaguely and Vi..

Vi wanted to close her eyes and hide under a rock somewhere rather than watch this horrible train wreck, unable to come up with any helpful thing to say or do. Wanted to stop all this, just freeze the scene to sort it all out before acting. Instead she got Amy continuing doggedly, full of good intentions, clearly headed for the proverbial muggle hell. “Amy,” she tried to say, but her throat wasn’t working properly and it ended as a croak and yeah, trying to stop Amy.. ha, ahaha..

“I mean it,” Amy said, “You can’t live like that, all on your own without anyone to look after you, and no home, and just.. you’re homeless, Riko, you can’t..”

“I’m not,” Riko interrupted, arms crossed before hurriedly putting them down again. Her tone was no longer apologetic, nor as weird as before, but it had a hard, flat.. something, there was still weirdness in it but also a warning, exasperation, and.. it was like a wall, and somehow it hurt Vi to see and hear it, more than everything she’d heard earlier.

“I’m not homeless,” Riko repeated in the same flat tone, “and I don’t need anyone to look after me, either. I told you, I was fine for an entire year completely on my own before even coming here, and I didn’t even need my Dad’s Gringotts account for it, either. I’m a free traveller, I have lotsa places I can go, I can take care of myself, I’m fine.”

Amy flinched back like struck and Vi felt herself freeze at the words.

Edie let out a hurt, bitter laugh, angry tears shimmering in her eyes. “Yeah, you’re _fine_ , right! Your parents are dead, whatever family you have practically abandoned you, and you have the.. you’re _mental_ you know, ’cause that’s the only way you could say ‘it’s not actively terrible’ and ‘I’m fine’ and not think it a lie, you are bloody insane and if you..”

“If I what,” Riko cut in, all cold edges, sending a shudder up Vi’s spine. She took in the way Riko’s stance had become a fluid ready and felt suddenly cold all over.

“If I what you will do what, hm?” Riko repeated, her voice growing sharp..er, and something else, Vi wasn’t quite sure what but it made dread pool in her guts. “Cause I _can_ actually take care of my problems, and whatever sort of terrible it may be it’s in my _past_ and I have a _handle_ on it. So _don’t_ take me for you! I lost people, yeah, but I’m no poor widdle orphan urchin whatever! And for my parents: I just have to wait, less than ten years now. So _keep_ it, Edie, you don’t get to judge my family, you _do_ _n’t_ , you don’t know _fuck-all_ about them..”

“And why is that?! Huh?!” Edie was screaming, tears streaming down her face. “How _dare_ you, I never _asked_ for your help and it was _you_ as never told us shit! And if you really think your parents will come back you’re an _idiot_ , dead people are _dead_ , they’re _gone_ and you’re _nuts_!”

“ _Shut up_!” Riko snarled, her eyes suddenly wild, promising bloody murder in a way Vi had never seen on her. “MY PARENTS AREN’T GONE!!”

Vi took an instinctive step back from the unthinking fury of it, the sharp sting of magic rippling around her, raising the fine hair on her arms and neck, surprising herself when there was suddenly her wand in her hand. Amy and Edie had flinched back as well, looking white with shock. They didn’t have their wands out but they had both slipped into a classic defensive pose.

There was a frozen moment of ice-cold shock when Vi saw Riko’s eyes go wide, taking in their reaction. There was no flinch, no rocking back, nothing at all, it was like she just froze, just shut down. There was no movement at all, no sound, not a single breath in the entire room.

“Riko!” Vi started to say, reaching out, letting go of her wand, dropping it like it burned, how had she.. how could she have..

But her friend had closed her eyes, face a blank mask and fingers moving in a well-known seal. All it left was a black flash of curling shadows and smoke. Vi heard clanging from the gallery outside, but when she got there it was only a few shaky suits of armour sorting each other out and standing up. The window at the end was open, it’s glass cracked. Riko was gone.


	8. What Happens in the Forest..

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, the Forbidden Forest is rather dangerous place, so all sorts of bad things can happen.. sometimes some good things too, though

Riko landed, if you’d call it that, on the ridge of a miserable, ugly hill.

Too riddled with boulders and stones to let any of the trees around it encroach, just some random smallish clearing in the Forbidden Forest, and she honestly had no clear idea on how she’d got there. She’d just had to get out, get away from..

..get away, just get away.

So she had, out the window and into the wind, away. There was a moment when among the dark of the trees she’d seen a great big mass of boulders and rocks that had been familiar in a very bad way. In an instinctive reaction she’d hurled a messy, mostly incoherent Damnod at it and got the hell away from there, and certainly not in the direction that went into acromantula country, bloody iceborn shite. And now here she was, in this mess of a secluded clearing, and no better off at all.

She hadn’t bothered, hadn’t even thought at all, about a decent landing, so instead she’d all but crashed. There was a nasty grove of scorched earth with stupid sharp edges of stones and rocks sticking out behind her, and even with the shield she’d called up on reflex it wasn’t pleasant to pick herself up after that thump.

But pleasant.. hah, what even was that, huh?! Riko was so scorching mad she didn’t give a single flying fuck about pleasant or whatever! Fuck this stupid ridge, and this stupid place, and its stupid bloody fucking rocks (just waiting for people to fall on them), and all of its stupid bloody people, all of them!

With a growl she stumbled up, kicking at and cursing various stupid stones and the ground in general. Did it have to be so crappy as to actually make a fucking crater here? K’sotarre!

Of course some of the stupid stones turned out to be rocks, and some of the ground was so damn messed up it fell away under her feet, so that when she up was on the ridge proper, _just because, alright_ , she’d had to break more than one fall with her hands, which were now scratched up even more, and hurting, as were her feet, and knees, and just godsdamned everything, k’so-oh!

Screaming and cussing at the scenery and everything in sight, and just generally everything ever, was entirely justified and also reduced a little the pounding in her head and ears. Or maybe she just couldn’t hear it as well while yelling but who’d give a fuck for the difference? Riko certainly not!

However, except for one little wriggle of underbrush nothing responded in any way, which could make anyone feel foolish, screaming around like that. Which in turn pissed her off even more, and since there was obviously nothing else around, Riko had to vent on the rocks. They certainly had it coming, lying around like that and all, served them right, not like they were good for anything else, ice’em!

Riko stuck with Damnod because why bloody not, wasn’t like there was anything here she _didn’t_ want to hit, just damn it all, undirected blasts were bloody fucking well good enough for any of this shite!

But, and that was the thing, as satisfying as it was, it was also vexingly, mockingly, depressingly pointless.

Because no matter how many of them got hit, there were always more lying around, and of course the bigger, really massive ones didn’t even really dissolve. It pissed her off even more, but with that her spells got so unfocussed they were even less effective. There was that one really big boulder and, alright, she hadn’t exactly focused _that_ much more, but she _had_ , and she’d pushed so much rage in it, and after the explosion all it’d done was slim it down a little, as if she’d just washed away a few layers and..

And that was really it, wasn’t it? There was really just no point, no matter what she did, there just wasn’t anything she could ever get right. She couldn’t keep her parents, couldn’t stand having family around without them, couldn’t help Shizuka, couldn’t keep Cheshu safe, or anyone at all really, couldn’t keep any friends at all, couldn’t even gut a stupid rock!

It hurt, badly, to even breathe in, after the inarticulate scream she’d let out at that damn rock, her throat was burning, but it was nothing against the cold awareness that just hit her. Like icy water, trickling in slowly but inescapably from where it had struck, seeping through her layers of clothes, making them freezing cold and heavy.

Riko knew that feeling well enough, oh, did she ever. At least this time she didn’t have a dead.. at least her friends wouldn’t.. there wasn’t even a stream around here, she was petty sure it was impossible to drown in the small ones they’d found so far, and certainly not in the lake, with the giant squid around to fish you out..

The complete absurdity of the thought punched a laugh out of her, leaving her stranded on hands and knees, laughing her head off because she just couldn’t seem to stop. It wasn’t that there was anything funny at all, but once she’d started, the sound of it seemed to take a life of its own, didn’t mean anything, was just something pouring out.

She still had to breathe, though, and after a few gasps, or a maybe few dozen, the cold facts of just everything, from last year’s failure with her own bloody house guardian to her failure in being able to even stand Uncle Gara’s company when he’d just wanted to visit, from just her damn existence being the _cause_ of, not to mention her utter uselessness _against_ the attack back then, to all her failures, with Cheshu, with her friends today, and yesterday, and the night before that, and with Vi before that, and just _everything_ kept piling on her, whirling around, making it harder and harder to get any air over the sobs shaking through her, and it only got colder and colder..

Her tears were burning cold, as if she were in that damned blizzard again, and Riko could hardly feel her hands any more. It was just as blurry, too, and then Riko felt something touch her head, only shortly, like a fallen leaf or snow being blown along but it startled her badly enough to look up from where she’d huddled, curled in on herself as small as possible.

She stopped breathing altogether then, the shock freezing her as much as the cold already had.

It was a piece of dark, thin cloth. Attached to it was the rest of the tattered cloak, or robe, or whatever, and inside _that_ , the dark of its hood staring at her like a giant, hungry hole, was a dementor.

Riko could only stupidly stare back before even a vague idea of _bad_ , of _get away, you need to get away!_ started to slowly form in the foggy chaos of her mind. Far too slow, and then her body was even less up to it than her mind, muscles all locked up, weak and shivering. As if she was suddenly trying to breathe under water, like she _was_ under water, it seemed to take forever until her hand was aimed at it, and the weak Damnod hardly even seemed to billow the tatters of cloth hanging off it; it really was like _everything_ was under water, all slow and dim and weird, stretched noises.

There was of course the insanely slow death-rattle of the dementor, as if it had already eaten all the air and only left cold, thick misery, and there was a strange, muted rushing in her ears, and she could hear whimpering gasps (her own?), as if they were physical things floating around her head.

There wasn’t a thing she could do. Her sad excuse for a Damnod had left her all but debilitated, hah, as if she’d been good for anything even before, and then.. then the dementor raised its dead, glistening-grey hands and pulled back its hood.

Riko looked away then, managed _that_ at least, once she realized what it was up to, because she knew what _that_ meant, she’d heard and read fuckin’ enough on those freakish non-creatures last year to know _that_ , and the prospect of having her spirit, her _self_ , sucked out and _eaten_.. well, the shock was a live current running through her, got her to moving at last. So, no, Riko didn’t stay and watch, she knew well enough that looking back while on the run was a bad idea, and she knew when she just had to get the fuck away.

Unfortunately it didn’t mean she also had the means to follow up on that insight, instinctive and right as it might be. Crawling was all she got, and not even very well, small wonder with how weak she was, shaking with it, and with the unreal cold. With all the stupid craters she couldn’t even properly see in the dim, greyish light, it was pointless, that’s what it was, she could just as well just curl up again!

She didn’t, though, even when she fell down a slope into a small crater and then practically rolled right into the next, no way, it was movement, it was away from.. if she could only.. if she could reach the cover of the trees, then..

But she couldn’t. Riko couldn’t even see the trees, not like she could see much of anything in this freakish mist, perhaps that was the reason, or perhaps she hadn’t even moved away, like she’d thought. From one moment to the next the last bit of strength seeped out of her, she couldn’t lift even a finger, limp like bit of kelp, couldn’t even _think_ of moving. Even breathing was so damn hard! She’d landed on her side and even the sharp stones against her ribs didn’t change that, didn’t manage to give her that push to at least roll over a little.

Then dark tatters moved into her field of vision. And then the sharp breath she’d sucked in at the sight left her when a pair of strong, clammy hands was suddenly in her hair, on her head, lifting her up, a paralysing terror gripping her like a vice.

Her vision had gone an odd, dimmed grey-scale with occasional smears, but even so the sight of the dementor’s face had Riko recoil in horror - or at least try to. It didn’t have eyes at all, instead there was only thin, grey, scabbed skin over empty sockets. But that wasn’t the worst, no. The mouth was a gaping, shapeless hole, utterly alien, and the death-rattle of its breathing that much more terrifying for coming out of that impossible blackness. Also that much louder, and the putrid stench coming from it..

There was no conscious thought involved in what happened next, it was pure, visceral fright and instinct that shot through her as that gaping maw closed in. Suddenly her left fang was in her hand and Riko was falling to the ground again. She had a short, surreal moment to see dark greyish swirls drop, or rather dissipate, from where she’d evidently cut, then she landed, again sliding down a slope. It hurt in the way very cold flesh hurts when struck, but Riko couldn’t even curl up, too weak to even hold onto her fang.

So that was it then. Riko could only watch, still in that weird, flickering grey-scale vision, how it moved towards her again, where she lay bloody fucking helpless, sobs caught in her throat, too many to get out. What would Vi and.. what would they think if she never showed up again? So much for her plans to restore her house guardian, too, so much for any of her plans ever, she’d just be gone, not even the chance for rebirth or anything, just digested into disgusting grey whatever, chog-oh, and the last thing she’d seen of her friends was a look of fear, k’so, if that was really all she amounted to, wasn’t it even better..

Riko’s view started to blur further, doubling then swimming together then doubling again. There seemed to be an nebulous aura of dark around the figure floating towards her and gradually it blotted out everything..

Then a sharp snarl split the air like lightning. A shape of stark black streaked into her field of vision, throwing everything else into violent contrast. The misty, undefined greys seemed to retreat from the sharp form, and no wonder. Riko’s eyes burned with the sudden brightness of the white-blue fire that enveloped it, dancing with what seemed electrical discharges. She only had that one moment’s glimpse, then the hound tackled the dementor, pointed snout revealing sharp teeth, seeking the dementor’s neck. She managed to blink, then, and when she opened her eyes again her vision was almost back to normal and she could roll over.

There was again stupid ground and rocks and fucking slope in the way, so Riko couldn’t see what was going on now. That was unacceptable. Her heart was hammering with adrenaline and it took every ounce of her returning strength, but she struggled to raise on her elbow. It was still difficult to see, to really get what was going on. There was no more mist, no darkish smears or flaring white. The black hound, a komainu for sure, was harrying the dementor, clearly set to find a way to finish it. The dementor was leaking from various places, dimming the air around it, light and colour overlaid by whatever it was evaporating.

Her left fang was still nowhere in clear sight. Riko struggled to raise to her hands and knees, not letting the fight out of view. The komainu looked worse the more she saw, so thin they were almost as skeletal as a thestral and heaving loud, pained breaths. They didn’t move like they were hurt, though, so that was something, and there was lightning cracking off it still, with no thunder around. Then, as the komainu charged the dementor again, the creature got a hold on them and the two went down in a heap of snarls, dark fabric, and limbs. From the sounds of it, pained yelps mixing in the snarls, things weren’t going well for the komainu; when Riko saw something rise above the mess, it was the head of the dementor.

The komainu was still struggling; she could hear them snarling, but now it was clearly in pain and distress as much as rage. Lightning flared inside her then, her own, had her reach for her right fang on instinct, drawing it from her back. The familiar weight shot a warmth through her hand, through her arm, her entire body. Clear focus, mission mode at its most basic, burned through her, body moving just as it should, as she willed it. But before she could get there, the komainu was thrown, almost right into her way.

They’d tried again to close their jaw around the dementors neck, had clearly put all of their strength behind this lunge – only to have the dementor redirect them, the non-living creature moving its arm in a way arms definitely shouldn’t work. But even so, the dementor was still off balance or at least distracted..

Riko charged it from the side, and whatever senses it had used earlier to see or otherwise recognize what the komainu was doing, they were obviously still fixed on the hound. Her jump had all the channelled energy behind it she could muster, and her strike hit.

Beautifully so, fang in a reverse grip, left arm backing the strike, entire body driving it in beautiful. Thumb in the ring instead of the forefinger, blade cross-wise to her hand, better for a solid strike but less so for movement or manoeuvrability.

Even with the fang wake and live, growing to deal with the foulness of their adversary, Riko had to take a drop with her right leg, to make sure the turn worked, drilling the point into the ground proper. Worth the trouble, she decided of the throbbing down the length of her leg as she stood straight again, panting. Hardly any of the jump’s energy had been lost, and it left the dementor incapacitated though unfortunately not dead.

Which really said it all, about those damn non-creatures, ch’soh, it’s creepy _head_ was pinned to the ground and it _still_ wasn’t dead, clearly only kept down by her fang, grown to over a yard in length. And stars and shadows was Riko glad of that, leaving her out of range of the dementor’s movements, no less creepy for their sluggish, underwater-quality. She backed away a few steps, gulping in air, glad the fang would hold it there at least for the moment. Clearly this called for no holds barred at all.

As she settled her shoulders, drawing in air and focus, she couldn’t help but grin. No matter if this worked or not (and damn but she’d truly be done if it didn’t), the Baron would be _so_ disappointed to have missed this. Heh. The sharp, vindictive glee of the thought settled nicely in the structures she was calling up, discharges cackling between her moving hands as she started the spell’s sigils.

“ _Zarzardo Zarzardo s’kurono  
yoyono niskounimoerus  
inoku no kokayou  
wangatento nanikete  
kiyokorokote Venom_ _”_

It was a vicious, burning rush, just _glorious_ , the sheer power of it, flowing through and around her, forming and growing, obeying her will as she called forth the darkness and fires of hell, a destructive force to utterly disrupt, to obliterate her target, just scorchingly fantastic!

And it did the trick, hells yes! It was only her third time using that spell, and the first time she had to use it in an actual fight, and one that had gone as badly as that, too! Her teeth were bared in a wild grin, despite the shivers and weakness trying to sneak back in. Despite the clear fact she wasn’t safe at all yet, but it didn’t compromise her handling matters, so the grin stayed. No getting rid of it anyway, nor of that particular burning high.

Gripping her fang settled most of the shivering for now, and after Riko calmed the sharp, acidic feel around the blade, and it in turn became a trusty kunai again, she returned it to it’s sheath, moving quickly to collect it’s counterpart. It hadn’t fallen far, and next was the komainu, lying still just a bit beyond the dark circle of completely scorched earth. They’d been thrown against the big rock she’d tried to gut earlier, but were definitely breathing, no open fractures or visible bleeding. Well, with this coat..

But this clearly wasn’t the place to try and heal, it wasn’t safe. One dementor had already shown up, nothing to stop others from appearing too, and as nice as Venom was (very-very-very nice, a small voice sung in her head), it was also terribly flashy in terms of any sort of magical awareness. It didn’t light a signal so much as it consumed the entire light-tower in one grand, burning-bright explosion.

So, definite need to leave. Need for shelter. Castle right out; not an actual safe place, ever, and Riko didn’t know what.. what anyone would have told anyone after her departing, and besides, destroying a dementor, and in such a way, was a sure way to catch trouble. Definitely not safe.

Closing her eyes for a moment, Riko took a deep breath and then let it out, tied and charged as Aki had taught her. It was far from perfect in execution, but it’d do what she wanted. Aki needn’t know, after all.

A small whirl of air started around her, than headed off. It’d be back as soon as it found shelter, and in the mean time.. Riko let her left fang dangle from its string round her wrist, holding her wand at both ends over the komainu. She had to use body-bind, in case they’d broken something, and in case of internal wounds she better push in some general stasis. That was no charm as such, or none she knew anyway, so it’d take some work and improvisation. It poured out nicely, and after a tense moment of resistance rather quick, like water being sucked into a dry sponge. Hopefully it’d hold up, then.

When Riko was finished, the little breeze was already back, playing with her hair, and immediately teased in a south-westerly direction. With a nod, Riko focused again, putting her left fang back in its sheath and burying her hand in the tangled mane of the komainu. Dragging the hound through the shadows was surprisingly easy, so much so that Riko was starting to really worry. The shadows weren’t as touchy as she recalled from first year, which was good, and it was of course good that her charge didn’t add half as much weight or friction as she’d expected even from an unconscious passenger, but still, what was going on?

They were lighter than Vi, and as talented and brilliant as her.. as Vi was, a komainu should carry a multitude of the energy of a human, especially such a young one as Vi. She had to surface only once on the way, and then again to be shown the entrance.

Riko came up from the shadows in a den, landing in a heap beside the komainu she’d pushed out first. A rather big den. From the way one side was very clean and the other littered with little bones, it’d been used by more than one inhabitant, probably a badger and a fox. Obviously whoever had used the den was gone, from the signs of disuse and from how old the bones looked. Even so, both animals had to’ve been very big, there was enough space here to allow for twice the current occupants if they nestled in a proper heap, which brought her neatly back to the komainu.

Putting both hands against their side, Riko concentrated, brushing outward with her magic, careful to direct her attention as lightly as possible while trying to get a clue on their - ah, on _his_ state. It was very different from how it should be. He clearly _was_ a komainu, no doubt there, but Riko knew far too little about how _exactly_ komainu were supposed to work internally to try and fix all of this. But that was the big advantage of magical creatures. In many ways their forms were so subject to their spirit or self that, supplied with the means, their bodies would do pretty much everything to repair themselves, following some inherent magical morphic field or whatever. If they had the means being the operative, relevant fallacy, in this case.

The komainu was all but dead; a hollow, echoingly cold hall, with a single shard of white-hot flame hidden away in its lowest, coldest dungeon, so to speak. Physically there were some cracked ribs and bones, some of them actually broken and badly displaced, and following that some nasty internal and some shallow external bleeding. And the general bad health, of course, badly malnourished, too, all but burned out and running on empty. It was oddly similar, well, at least a little, to Vi, when Riko had found her with that weird not-fever. Back then the greensleeves had messed with her friend’s exhausted body, set as it was to activate any sort of reserve to keep you going, which was why you needed to eat and drink when taking it. Except for the lack of obvious signs of fever, this here seemed much the same, the currents still roiling through this badly messed up system only strengthened the similarity.

Riko came back to herself and promptly had to lean her forehead against her patient to not fall over from her crouch, vertigo dancing merrily round her head and stomach. Goodbye to that nice spell high, and hello burnt-out shakes and shivers. Chog-oh, now how to deal with it..

When she opened her eyes again after a few deep breaths, Riko had her erstwhile plan ready. At least loosely. Obviously, to do anything she had to be able to actually do it without falling over. First thing, setting a proper marker, seal and all, before slipping up through the shadows and towards the edge of the forest. Judging from the fixed direction of her dorm, the point by the window still active and thank all the stars and shades for that, she just had to keep going south-west.

It wasn’t terribly far to the edge of the forest, even less so when you were a shadow just streaking along, and once she could see the castle it was definitely alright to use Baquo-Raven. The gain in speed made up more than enough for the strain, and in no time at all she was outside the kitchen. Her ping showed nobody untoward was around, so it was safe to tickle the pear in the still-life enough to make it wriggle, then squeal and turn into a door handle.

Even running in full mission-mode, the great cavernous room made Riko feel better immediately. As always it seemed even bigger than the Great Hall directly above it, probably because there was so much more going on here. Dinner was still a few hours off but the house elves were already busy. Well, they always were, but they were currently busy with dinner.

It made her relax even as she looked around for any of her usual contacts, the warm light of the fireplaces glinting off all the brightly polished pots and bowls. The strings of greens and herbs, the racks of spices, the sacks and crates and baskets of various food-stuffs, and of course the already-cooking dinner made for a smell that could’ve calmed an angry dragon. She thought she saw Denbigh somewhere further in, stirring a massive cauldron from a small ladder leaned against one of the many working tables. Ah, and there was Finny already heading in her direction. Riko bowed respectfully to the mastermind organiser of the house elves.

“Well met, Finny, good to see you again. I’m sorry to be a bother..”

“Yes-yes, well met, we’s already know to leave any school experiments in yours third storey room alone. Was is the Inconceivable wanting?” Finny asked shortly, although she looked rather tolerantly over the bowl she was currently beating.. something in, sugary froth, no further info.

“Oh - right - sorry.. thank you, I just need some normal food-stuffs - and if it’s not any trouble some sweets with lots of sugar, y’know, for energy?”

“Hmf,” Finny said, now looking her over more sharply, then handing her bowl off to an elf with reddish curls. “Here, Hiddles. Now, Downey, you gets us some tea and biscuits, over there, Inconceivable come along now, Effie, Ruffy, Remy, yous makes a healthy basket, tea, lunch-stuffs, humbugs, you knows the tricks..”

It was a very strange experience to be edge-on-wary around Finny, but there is was. Even so, Riko followed the elf to the table closest by the door. In no time at all a chair, a big mug of sencha, and a plate of brightly decorated biscuits beside a pot of honey were delivered. In the background the three called-up elves had evidently acquired help from Downey and a few others. Finny, who usually would have just looked at that, immediately dispersing the gaggle, was instead eyeing Riko, then tugging her to sit, poking and frowning at her clothes. Ah, which were still not repaired from Buckbeak’s claws. Or her more recent meetings with stupid rocks and dirt..

“Oh, I’m sorry, Finny, s’rude yeah,” Riko tried on an embarrassed smile, which wasn’t even that hard, well, at least the embarrassed part, damn, she didn’t even know how she looked, Argh! So much for not alerting anyone!

“S’alright, really, I’ll fix it later, it’s fine, really no big deal, just had a bit of a run-in with some dirt as y’can see, yeah, no problem, really..” Riko’s gesturing was interrupted by Finny gripping her ruined sleeve with long, thin fingers and looking pointedly over it, at the mug Riko had set down to properly reassure the elf. Riko couldn’t recall when she’d last blushed that much. She quietly took the mug with the other hand, watching in quiet interested as Finny expertly repaired the rips with her magic.

With a telling look at the plate Finny then stood up and bustled off, coming back with a couple of towels and a.. second jug? Riko had tried to eat more biscuits, really, but there was only so much you could do in so short a time and.. phew, the basket was finished, alright, leaving time now..

Of course Finny just had to wrap the remaining biscuits in a napkin and put it in the basket, too, together with the towels and jug and.. um, what?

“For cleaning,” Finny said with a severe look, throwing Riko completely for some reason. But then, she really didn’t know what she looked like, and it was good to have more stuff, ne, and yeah, alright..

“Thank you very much, Finny, for everything.. of that..” Riko bowed quickly, hurrying out while she was sure her eyes were burning up.

Real smooth, Riko, a dry little voice in her head mocked. Ignoring it, and the fact it sounded a lot like Vi, she made the entire way back to the den via shadows, no matter how sick she felt every time she had to jump out and in again. Then, upon arrival, she had as many biscuits and as much tea as she could, as fast as she could, only stopping when she was starting to feel seriously queasy.

This done, she decided to not end her bastardized stasis-spell because there was no way in hell she’d be able to stop or handle the mess if it got to deteriorating. It was tricky enough already, channelling in again, checking the current state (definitely worse than earlier but not by much) and then finding a stable, non-interfering way to help. K’so, she’d be dead twice over if she were in that state, Riko was sure, and it was at least as tricky as helping Vi that time last year, even if it was as different as it was similar. Here she wasn’t trying to repair outright, only trying to push in as much energy as possible. Hah, _only_ , yeah right.

For one, you had to calibrate and attune the energy, and then control the flow just right, and find the right channels, and currents, and, yeah, veins, even if it wasn’t blood. You couldn’t just ignore the raging currents, had to calm them and go with them and read them, find the ways that already existed, barren and damaged as they might be, had to carefully probe and try, always making sure to not get confused, to not cause even more damage. Cause that was far too easy, far too many ways to do more harm than good by overloading a pathway, be it by badly attuned or too much power, or breaching where you shouldn’t go, which meant trying to figure out what was supposed to be open but perhaps scarred over and what was just normal but damaged surroundings, what was a wall and what used to be a door, so to speak.

The work was oddly numbing, though, almost a relief, dividing her attention to direct here, probe there, all the while fiddling to attune, making sure to stay fully connected, not letting any outer sensations distract her and pull her out of focus, pushing energy in, in, in, steadily, carefully, you could lose yourself here if you weren’t very careful and then..

*

Coming aware to a snout of very sharp teeth snarling at her, into her face actually, Riko rocked back. Or, well, tried to, but it turned out she was already lying on her back, packed earth and huh, a few small bones poking just below her shoulders. A heavy weight on top of her. Right, the snarling komainu.. wait, what? .. _what?_

It said a lot about how completely befuddled Riko was, that even now she couldn’t seem to have a single decent thought, or get worked up over the teeth mere inches from her face, or at least have any sort of real, instinctive response to any of it. But then, the first breath she tried to draw set her into a wheezing cough, and that could distract anyone, right?

Well, not the komainu, who was still growling into her face, his paws so heavy on her shoulders as to push her into the ground. He seemed as confused as she, only much less mellow or befuddled about it, lucky bastard. Her next attempt at breathing went much better, but even so Riko could hardly feel her fingers, or any of her limbs, beyond a weak prickling, like they’d fallen asleep, just like her damn brain.

“Hey, s’aright,” she tried. Her voice was hoarse, only slowly starting to work, but Riko couldn’t bother ’bout that right now, least it didn’t hurt much. “S’aright,” she repeated, a little clearer, “it’s safe here, you’re safe, s’aright..”

And because she had to breathe again anyway, Riko leaned her head back as far as she could, showing the strange komainu her throat, classic sign of not-a-threat right there. He could’ve savaged her already if he wanted, clearly, and besides, he was a komainu, and he _had_ saved her earlier, so.

Then it was very nice, but also confusing, to not be pressed against the ground any more, her body still trying to find itself again. The komainu had backed up quickly, all but pressing against the other wall now, clearly still upset and growling dubiously.

“Oh, ah.. it’s some den, I just searched for shelter, set up a small sprite, y’know, and it was pretty close, so there’s that,” Riko laboriously pulled herself on her elbow, then struggled to sit up. It took embarrassingly long. The komainu was quiet and still watching her warily, expecting her to answer. _Seriously_.

She sighed, drawing her now-shaking hands over her face and back through her hair, trying to get up to speed. “Look, I’m sorry, I must’ve fucked it up somehow, I was trying to, ah, help you heal? Anyway, we’re safe here, ah, yeah, dementor’s totally gone, so no worries there, so you really can relax and, ah, I’m Riko, sorry for the lack of manners, so.. are you alright? I mean you’re up and moving, alright, but you were pretty done in and..”

Another growl, impatient and still wary but also much more on the civil side already.

Riko rather doubted he was really ‘fine’, but she wasn’t going to push. He obviously didn’t want help, and in light of how she’d already fucked it up once, and was now only half-a-step from keeling over.. yeah, alright, no pushing going on here, traveller’s manners all the way!

“Nothing crazy, honestly, I just.. you were running on empty, see, so I tried to channel in some energy, alright, you just said you were fine, so chill. And it caught a fang to the head, and then a nice’n proper ’xplosion, so you can chill, as I said, totally gone, pfff, _gone_ , safe here, so chill..”

His reply was less growly and showed more civility now, but his insistent paranoia in the face of absolutely no threat here in this nice little den was really starting to annoy her. Riko tried to sit up straight to make a point and promptly hit her head on the low ceiling, slumping back moodily.

“Yes, I do and I said it was a _nice_ explosion, stars’n shades, it’s disintegrated, I’d like to see it reform from _that_ , and besides, even if it did it couldn’t find us here, so if I show it are you gonna chill? For now? ’Cause jumping around outside after all that really would be a bad idea, agreed?”

At the grumbled reply Riko only sighed, then very slowly drew her right fang, hooking only her forefinger in the ring and holding it out between them so he could sniff it. He did so, ears swivelling as he obviously took it all in, coming to whatever conclusions, Riko had no clue. Then he moved back, calmer now. Riko let go a relieved breath and settled back, sheathing it again.

“Alright, great, just so you don’t get huffy later, I have a second, here,” she touched it at her left tight, “and as for how I can say that: we didn’t leave a trail ’cause I have it on good authority there’s no tracking shadows, so can we start the officially civil part now? There should be some food here, and I suggest we make the most of it, yeah?”

He was still more wary than any komainu she’d ever met, but he did agree, and made an obvious effort at calming down. And if he was still obviously tense and not well at all, well, you didn’t get to the state he was in with just one misfortune; and not having a pack and being all done and such, well, Riko got _that_ well enough.

They were both exhausted, which made for a very quiet meal, not that either could bring themselves to eat a lot. It was just too much work. Riko’s eyes were drooping and across the basket she caught the same on the komainu’s face, although he was clearly far more worried about it. Personally, Riko was currently just a bit too tired to properly worry, or even just generally think about anything not right in front of her. They had shelter, food, and were a variable sort of fine. Good enough to catch some rest, she felt like she hadn’t slept for weeks.

“Alright then,” she said, when his head snapped up after his eyes had drifted closed, again. He was immediately back to staring at her warily. She sighed and unsuccessfully tried to suppress a yawn. “Alright,” she repeated, “We need rest. This is a safe place. I’ll put up some alarm-wards, just small ones, we don’t want to attract attention, a’right.”

He looked sceptically at her, so wary, sheesh, that was a really polite offer right there, she’d thought, and she frowned at his huffed reply, or rather question. “No, I don’t.”

Riko would’ve left it at that, was already turning away to ignore his rude lack of discretion and creep up the tunnel and ward it as promised – but he kept at it, very audibly, clearly not meant to be ignored, tracking her with his bright eyes.

“No, certainly _not_ the castle, and it’s really none of your business,” she snapped.

Ignoring the growl behind her Riko crawled away to do her wards, all the while also ignoring the painful chaos of ugly thoughts trying to crawl into her head again. There was nothing she could do about any of it now, she needed rest, she’d deal with it all tomorrow. Whatever it would turn out to be by then. She shoved that thought away, too.

When Riko got back, the komainu was stretched out awkwardly against the wall, furthest from the two entrance tunnels. Right, he was fine, of course. His head shot up immediately though, and he was staring at her so intently with his bright, blueish-grey eyes that she paused. She was just about to comment, but then his question threw her completely, because.. what?

“What??” she repeated, but he only kept staring at her. “No, I didn’t, why would you think I.. chh..”

Riko only noticed she’d sat back, her legs folding like wet paper, when her backside landed with a thump. It was odd to suddenly feel all cold again. Of course, bloody shite, he’d seen what of her? Knew what of her? But still, to have a komainu think that of her..

“No, I didn’t harm anyone there,” she said quietly, slowly, folding in on herself against the cold. “But really, why’d you even jump in if..”

He stood and moved towards her as she answered, but even so Riko hadn’t expected anything like that, a head-bump, gentle and apologetic, and then he actually licked her face. It was just too bizarre to react at first, until he huffed something about weird taste.

“Yeah, well, you reek,” she croaked back, clearing her throat. Not trusting her limbs to rub at her eyes. They felt dead dry anyway, like last end-of-year..

She got another bump from his massive head then, another huff as he herded her towards the back wall. He stretched out against it again, clearly keen to have something solid against his back and Riko wasn’t going to begrudge him for it. Especially when he tugged at her sleeve with his teeth until she curled up against his side. It was nothing like Kumomaru or any of her pack, and not just because he really did smell terrible. But neither the snarls in his tangled mane nor the ribs she could feel against her back could stop the feeling of safety pooling in her guts, nor the exhaustion seeping from her bones. Riko was out cold as soon as her eyes closed, almost before she’d laid down.

*

When Riko woke up, everything was terrible. Her head was completely clear again, which was terrible, and everything hurt, including every single muscle and bone, and her head, and in a different way but no less real pretty much everything she could recall from yesterday. Just terrible, all of it.

With a resigned sigh, she stretched carefully, so as not to wake the only not-terrible part of it all.

The komainu was dead to the world, not a single muscle twitching; his deep breaths spoke of complete exhaustion that demanded proper tribute. He snuffled a little when she crawled away, so the lack of a warm body did register on some level. It made her feel right bad.

With another sigh she wriggled out of her twisted up school robe and concentrated, then lightly settled the transformed blanket on him. Even that little Sartor left her with a pounding behind her eyes, which didn’t bode well. Riko bit her lips and emptied the basket of all the remaining food. There were still some biscuits and even some tea, which would do as breakfast for now.

First thing she needed intel on the sitch, that much was clear, it’d tell her what options she even had. She was reasonably well prepared for a worst case scenario, hah, so much for paranoia, if she had to she could just leg it form here, everything essential as always on her person. She checked her watch. First lesson was just about to start. Well, it was only Binns, so no problem there. She made a circle around the remaining food to keep it fresh and her fingers tingled afterwards. Right. Damn. With another sigh she selected one of her hairs, tying the wards she’d made yesterday off in it.

It took two more to make a proper loop for one of the komainu’s paws, but really, anything else would’ve been more than just rude. She was glad he didn’t wake, as was. Riko stayed in the shadows the entire way to the edge of the forest, loath to leave any trails for anyone at all. Her first stop, well, her first relevant stop was at the office of yesterday’s.. incident, that fit, right? Anyway, basket left in the broom cupboard off the Entrance Hall, their old room on the third floor was her first stop. She’d left her bag here, completely forgotten in all the drama.

The room seemed clear, no traps or wards to be found. Looking with the third form of Obscurantis there was a note on the massive, old-fashioned desk, _READ ME!_ on it in large letters. It was written in Vi’s hand.

 _It’s same place as last winter_ , Riko read when she’d unfolded it, and _None of us care for playing Seeker, so chill._

Trying to breathe in while at the same time having the air punched out of you was weird and unpleasant. It was a good thing no one was around to hear her, or see her lean against the desk like that. Riko couldn’t help but smile, just a little, at Vi’s summary dismissal of all things snitch. It was rueful smile, though. She was well aware of what she’d lost yesterday. Well, no matter, with that cleared up she could stay here until she finished her restoration project, and for that she’d need to be a functional student, and for that.. alright..

They had only one subject from yesterday today, Transfigs, and of course McGonagall had already given them homework for it. At least it was the closest the stern witch ever got to harmless, getting-used-to-homework-again: a short discussion of the animagi concept they’d done yesterday. Frame of action determined, Riko wasted no further time. First sneak to her dorm, quick clean-up, find a similar note from Vi at her bedside cabinet. Gods and spirits, how had her.. how had Vi even got it there? Pushing the questions away and pocketing that too.

Tony’s added note of _What?!_ stuck to it with one of her housemate’s more obnoxious sticking charms and reminded her of the matter with Draco. Well, damn. Riko already knew without a doubt he wouldn’t be in lessons today, what with Binns and McGonagall on the timetable. Heck, he’d been playing it up last afternoon already. Not that she’d minded, at the time, it’d helped her get away form Madam Pomfrey after all. But still, it was a tricky matter now. She hurried up to hide in the library for a chance to write in peace. First a proper apology to Lord Malfoy, then on to the animagi concept, right, not terribly hard, that last, she’d brooded enough on it already over the hols..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Riko is obviously thinking clearly, and rationally, and is all-in-all completely fine after that ever so restful rest in her new den. No skewed view on anything at all, she is just so very much in control of all her faculties, etc, pp. Clearly. ;-p


	9. Where Can One Go..

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yes, yesterday was bad, which means that today should be about things getting better, right? ...yeah.. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

Vi was, against all that was just or even tolerable, having a very bad, no-good, so-much-worse-than-yesterday day. Considering she was at Hogwarts at long damn last, and it was Friday morning, _and_ considering all of yesterday, and the day before, this was ridiculous, and unacceptable, and just entirely fucked up. But then, what here wasn’t?

It’d been bad enough, yesterday, after.. it’d been bad enough, handling Edie and her sudden plunge into confrontational madness, even if Vi could understand, personally, sort of, and rationally, from Edie’s point of view. She’d put Amy on her case when the Ravenclaw stormed out, just to be sure she was safe, both meanings, and then she’d actually had to involve other Slytherins in this thrice-cursed mess, make sure they weren’t going to lose Riko because of one message too few. Not that there was a guarantee that Sorrentino wouldn’t just get rid of the note, or do who-even-knew-what with it, but Vi wasn’t going to assume that. Yet. It was just one more thing buzzing around her head over a grumpy breakfast.

It’d taken her forever to fall asleep yesterday, going over each damn detail, conclusions forming left and right and whirling around in a hazy cloud, obscuring each other. Neither the tea nor the eggs nor the toast, none of them worth the effort of eating as it turned out, were stopping it even now, little pieces of Riko’s tale just popping up in her head without rhyme or reason. Vi waited so long she was almost late for Herbology, but Riko didn’t show up for breakfast. Edie did, but she ignored Vi and sat at the Ravenclaw table. At least Amy was with her there.

In the greenhouse she only just managed to chase off Longbottom from sitting with Amy and her two Gryffindor cases, friends, whatever. The grumpy look she caught for it from the duo was not intimidating at all but it didn’t improve her mood either. At least Amy nodded and gave her a pained smile. Vi was paying exactly zero attention to the lesson, she had more important things to worry about. Good thing was, she felt rather certain no matter what extracurricular language they used, Potter and Ronald wouldn’t understand any of them. So, preference of informant/partner, courteous.

“So, what flavour?” she said, throwing Amy a level look, because yes, Vi was impatient, but it wouldn’t do to harass Amy with it, first thing. She looked tense enough already.

“Stinksauer und verrückt vor Sorge,” Amy said, tapping her fingers on the table and ignoring the flabbergasted looks of Potter and his Weasley. So, German then, and Vi had the uncomfortable suspicion the description was not only correct for Edie. ((translation: extremely angry and mad with worry))

“Great. And if she’s back they’re now sharing a class,” Vi replied, matching the language and wishing fervently her pragmatism were catching. She doubted it, though. Once Amy got her hackles up it took some serious shit to end it, and Edie.. Vi’d never seen her even remotely like that..

“Yeah, if,” Amy ground out.

Vi didn’t sigh. Clearly it was better to leave this vein alone for now and she could take hints, thank you very much, she was still alive and herself and mostly sane, after all. “You’ll know next lesson, right? What’s it for you? I got Edie in Potions and let me tell you, taking that offer? Really bad call.”

“She said it would help her,” Amy said, sounding very McGonagall, and Vi bit her lip. Yeah, bad choice. But if Amy knew how Snape was acting.. well, clearly pointing that out that wouldn’t help either. Vi sighed and took out her timetable quietly, instead of making it worse.

“I’ll try and get in the clear with her, but if I don’t manage, can you make sure she’s alright? Specially with Defence last today..”

“’Course,” Amy said, and then, after some more tapping, continued, tense and angry. “You’re not angry at all? You’re really taking this very well.”

Vi sighed again, refusing to let those additional projectiles get anywhere, pictured them lodging somewhere she didn’t have to think with. “If I got angry at _everything_ that pisses me off, I’d.. never get anything done.” She clenched her jaw shut after that, cursing that stupid pause, she was usually better at being general instead of specific.

Amy just looked at her warily, thoughtfully, then away, clearly still angry, maybe even more so now, she was after all smart enough to deduce at least a few of the attached leads. Their table was silent and very unproductive this lesson, and afterwards Vi still had no clue what they were supposed to have learned or even what plants had been up. Amy managed a curt “Library or..?” when they were putting away their things.

“Library,” Vi said, then made haste for the dungeons. She had someone to look after, since said overwrought nutcase was clearly unable to do so herself, no matter what she said or thought, and at least this one, unlike her counterpart in drama, was still here..

It wasn’t hard at all to stare balefully at every single Ravenclaw that wasn’t Edie, so that by the time Snape let them in Vi had no trouble to sit beside her friend. Today’s potion required wolfs-bane, chopped up very fine. Vi wanted to hex the potionsmaster into next week.

Now, Edie was stubborn, Vi would never doubt that, but she was, at least in a civilized setting, hindered by her ingrained civilized nature. So, when Vi just grabbed all the aconite on the desk and positioned herself at the opposite end of the desk, she was stumped for a moment.

“If you come over here, I will hex you,” Vi growled, “and then set this shit on fire.”

Edie had only hesitated at the first part, but the last stopped her cold, although she was now aiming a hard, unamused look at Vi. Vi didn’t care, not much anyway, and tried to offer an olive branch, so to speak.

“Could you please get the Taraxacum root for me, fair exchange of labour and all that?”

Edie was good enough to do that without commentary. Or perhaps so vexed she didn’t want to talk, because civility. But the more the lesson wore on, the fewer cold looks Vi got from her, and she was quite sure it wasn’t only because of the fumes getting to her friend.

Their potions were not very good. Having cut up the aconite rather early on by necessity of Edie had run opposed to the time for putting it in, and it probably hadn’t helped that Vi had put up a very stringent containing ward on her cutting board. It had worked just fine in stopping any seeping or fumes, yes, but it had also turned the cuttings into a soggy mess. Even so, Snape’s scathing rant was definitely overdone. Besides, it was his own stupid fault, choosing this potion for today’s lesson.

Edie was already sniffling badly enough with the shit that had evaporated from the other tables, fuck, if it weren’t so completely obvious Vi would’ve tried giving her a bubble-head charm. Instead she’d fixed herself with a curse of the bogies, so they had at least both runny noses, and Edie had been very obviously under the weather since the feast and all, so that should be sufficient cover right there. Even with Snape remarking scorchingly that they had obviously messed up handling the wolf’s bane correctly, when there were about five other perfectly good names for the damn weed, fuck you very much!

“And seeing how Miss Eohyrde obviously chose to let you make that mess all on your own, I don’t think I can accept her potion for a grade,” he sneered, “leaving you with a zero for this practical, Miss Eohyrde, I hope you’re not going to make a habit of that, feeling a bit _sniffly_ is no excuse for failing your course work..”

Vi was so mad, especially at that last part, that she faked a hacking cough just to interrupt him, not like he’d talk when not everyone could hear his asshole performance, right? Worked like a charm, as Amy would say, and relieved Edie of having to answer, too, as he switched his focus on Vi. Perhaps there had been some choice words sort-of hidden in the coughs; no proof of it, though, except perhaps Edie’s ears blushing very fetchingly.

“Miss Drake,” Snape said in his best mellifluous warning tone, “I do hope you are well soon, we wouldn’t want to let any.. _catching infections_ spread around the school. Do let yourself be checked over before you attend my class again.”

That poisonous hackfaced _git_ , Vi shot him a baleful glare because _that_ at least she could do, clearly he couldn’t be expected to be reasonable anyway. Well, fuck him, did he think only Slytherins got his hints, or did he really think she’d desert her friend?

“Of course,” she said coldly, pointedly leaving off the title of professor. “No worries, though, I’m sure there’s a potion that’ll be helpful.”

He turned away with a closed expression then, which was completely unsatisfying, but it ended the dreadful lesson so Edie could get out of the damned, aconite-infested dungeons up to lunch. Edie was actually docile enough to be quietly dragged to their usual corner at the Hufflepuff table, which said a lot about how miserable she still was. It was only when Vi had fixed her own stupid runny nose with a Finite Incantatem and was ready to dig in that Edie spoke up, still looking down at the untouched plate that Vi had resolutely filled for her.

“That wasn’t very polite,” Edie said disapprovingly to her roast potatoes.

Vi huffed and speared her fish with a resounding thunk. “Damn right it wasn’t,” she said, “He’s known you for two years, he’s got no right at all to act like that!”

Edie sighed, clearly at Vi’s interpretation of her first comment, but she didn’t argue, just continued talking to her plate. At least she was also starting to poke her food, even if she still lacked enthusiasm for the concept of actual eating.

“It’s alright, really,” she said quietly, clearly both despondent and careful to not be overheard, “He’s feeling ill at ease about it, ’s completely normal and to be expected, and he did agree to help, adjust the potion and all..”

Edie had looked up only for a moment, but when Vi’s fork didn’t even hit a supposed target, just the plate, her head was immediately bowed down again. Vi had never seen her friend so uneasy about the subject of lycanthrophy and, much more importantly, there was SO much wrong with those statements..

“What.” Vi said, putting both hands flat on the table. Edie was quiet. Vi didn’t even know where to start for a moment.

“Firstly,” she stabbed the table with her finger, “I already told you, he’s known you for two years, during which you were a perfect, peaceful student. He has shit-all to feel ill-at-ease about, and I certainly would have expected better from him, he’s smart enough!”

Edie looked like she felt she should argue despite having obviously thought the same as Vi. As nice as it was to have her friend look up from the massacre on her plate, she looked so miserable Vi hastily talked over her, not wanting to get stuck on this miserable fuck-up of Snape failing at basic decency.

“And secondly you can start explaining what exactly you mean by adjusting the potion. You said you didn’t need our help this year and that..”

Then several jagged pieces in her mind came together to form a picture, and considering from what different corners they came Vi though she could be excused for the sharp intake of breath. Morgana’s frothin’ cauldron, what the bloody fucking..

“Fuck!” Vi said, not at all reassured by Edie’s torn look, amber eyes wide as she stared back at Vi. “Why does he have to adjust your wolfsbane potion, Edie, shite, why didn’t we.. why.. I could’ve _got_ it for you.. why haven’t you been taking it the entire fucking _time_ , instead of..”

“Vi..” Edie said, very carefully, as Vi had trailed off. She’d been talking very quietly as it was, and towards the end it had been no more than a sharp murmur, but she wasn’t going to.. Fuck! She leaned back a little, to make clear ‘nothing overly interesting going on here, no, siree’ to any and all watchers. She didn’t stop looking at Edie with clear demand, though.

“It’s complicated,” Edie said and Vi almost started laughing, hysterically and without any sort of humour. It must’ve showed, at least a little, because Edie rolled her eyes. But she did start talking. Quietly and in German, but clearly more herself, back to talking about it like it was a practical problem, not some crime or fault of her own.

“For one, it’s registered, but I’ll give you that’s an issue one can avoid. But it was developed for a very narrow target group, magical citizens registered after surviving an attack by the common.. variant. Not for kids, number one, and, well, he wasn’t.. he was a muggle, so, not normal either, it was the worst of luck, they said, cause they hardly ever survive more than three moons..”

Vi watched Edie hold herself very still at the last parts, biting her lips, clearly reluctant and, well, understandably. She’d never talked about the werewolf that had attacked her and her brother, or the attack itself, and they had never asked. But Edie obviously wasn’t going to decide on anger versus sympathy versus complete mess today, shaking her head and collecting herself.

“So yes, of course my parents tried it, Mum got it, no wand magic involved, no trouble at all, but it.. it didn’t work right, or I didn’t, ballast y’know, anyway, I nearly died, still got a scar from it.”

Vi felt ill at how calmly her friend could say that. Edie shot her an apologetic look and _shrugged_ , just shrugged it _off_! Far too much like.. frothin’ shite, Vi was so going to get them both drunk at some point and just ask a lot of questions. But right now Edie continued calmly.

“There’s been no further research on it in forever. It was developed and worked on before it got really bad with Voldemort, and then, with the whole paranoia and people dying, and some werewolves working with him and everything, well, there was no more interest in really working on it, or making it better, it did what it was supposed to, right, so what if there were side effects and so on?”

Vi grunted a reply. It didn’t really bother her to have her friends say Voldemort, she did it too if it came to it, but it was still weird, disruptive in what was already a depressing story. But, well, wasn’t that pretty much the definition of history in general, especially from what they’d learned last year? Edie just shrugged again, silent now and clearly not keen to continue any more. Not there was much explanation needed.

Vi almost growled with anger. “Alright, so the normal version doesn’t do it for you. And I get you were so happy you got in here that you didn’t want to bother Snape. And he is a Potions master. Fine, so that’s what Dumbledore offered, the potion needs to be made anyway for the teacher, you can have some in return for being a guinea pig. Right. How _nice_.”

Edie shot her an impatient look at her tone, but Vi didn’t care, because this was just not on, that sort of behaviour might be.. fitting for any active member of _her_ family, but Dumbledore had no business making such deals with people who weren’t in any sort of position to say no and..

“Vi,” Edie interrupted her steaming mad silence, perhaps noting the actual risk of Vi going to give two certain wizards a right piece of her mind. “That’s not it at all,” she said, and she clearly believed it, too. “Professor Snape was one of the first people working on it, he’s pretty much the best chance of getting a potion to work for me, and once it does, it’ll be so much better for anyone else, and..”

‘And that is the very definition of guinea pig’, Vi wanted to yell at her. But she knew it wouldn’t do any good. Edie was otherwise very sane, but in regards to her satellite state she was more stubborn than Riko. Vi growled and buried her head in her hands so she didn’t have to listen any more. Edie was nice enough to stop. None of them felt like eating.

“You’re taking this worse than yesterday,” Edie said after while, during which each was only studying their plate.

Vi sighed, suddenly very tired and aching for a smoke. It didn’t carry the same accusation as when Amy had remarked much the same, was more of an apology than anything, after yesterday’s words between them, because this was Edie, who really just wanted to understand. Who, even when spitting mad, wouldn’t doubt what she _knew_. Though with her lunar powered senses she did have a more direct reassurance.

“Yes,” Vi said tiredly, at length, “because I can.”

She started eating mechanically after that, every breath like lead. Edie was quiet and Vi knew she understood, or rather was in the process of understanding, collecting quietly the strings attached to that admission. Riko wouldn’t have needed to be told. Amy was probably already feeling bad about it somehow. Everything sucked.

Then Amy stopped by very shortly, as she arrived with Potter and Ronald, to tell to tell them “She was in Transfigs” and stomp off for the Gryff table. From her mood this fact didn’t need to be counted as a good thing, but Vi felt only about half as bad as before. Then of course the remaining half grew that many more what-ifs and question and everything was back to bad.

Transfigs with Edie after lunch cemented that trend and gave further evidence to the thesis that everything sucked, was wrong, and should just not be like this. McGonagall had no business expressedly mentioning and dismissing theories and views on animagi that Vi could recognize only too easily. Because so could Edie, of course. Right. So much for that pipe-dream of getting those two exploding half-decks together again any time soon. Edie was stiff-lipped and tense for most of the lesson. And was McGonagall watching them more than usual? And why couldn’t she concentrate for shit today?

When she arrived in the Charms corridor, Vi was in full hunting-mode because the alternative was being just spitting mad, and of the two the latter was less likely to yield any useful outcome. To hunt a Riko was by no means easy, but Vi knew her prey and that gave her an edge. For example, Riko was bound to be obscured in _some_ way, so it would be useless to look _for_ her. It would, however, be far from useless to be obscured yourself and try to find where people were unconsciously moving around a space that remained empty. Unless of course Riko was so paranoid she stuck to the fringes, but even that was some info.

It took an unreasonable amount of manoeuvring, but when Professor Flitwick started class, Vi was sitting beside Riko on a desk that was middling good for not getting into trouble. Riko looked tired and harried, and also distant in a way she hadn’t, ever. But there she was, ignoring Vi, acting as if Flitwick’s usual recap of last year was in any way relevant. Vi wanted to smack her up the head.

“Good to see you got my note,” she said instead, because starting out neutral seemed a good idea, to avoid spooking, test the ground, etcetera.

It got her absolutely no reaction and Vi was developing a theory on what had got Amy in such a mood. She sighed. “This how you set off Amy like that? Y’know, she was worried sick during Herbology first period, and then at lunch she was like an angry dragon. Won’t work on me, by the way, though I might start hexing you at some point, I’ll just keep talking til then. It’s good to know you’re alright, y’know, I was getting worried, specially with that weird.. I had a really bad feeling yesterday, after, but here you are, all fine and freakishly silent, oh, and if I get into trouble for talking I will take you down with me, just so you know, I’m actually surprised you’re still in such good health, I’m pretty sure Amy would’ve already decked you one, or set you on fire more likely, and I’m starting to see the appeal, do you really want me to..”

“I evaded her,” Riko said at length, sounding resigned, not looking over, keeping her eyes to the front. But still, progress. And also: yeah, that made sense. Vi was proud of and inwardly congratulated herself on having cornered her friend so well.

“Well, that wasn’t very smart,” she said, disliking the weird, flat tone her friend was using. And just like that it seemed Riko’d shut down again. “Edie was just as worried, even more, ’cause you weren’t in History of Magic,” Vi decided to prod further. At that, even as guarded as Riko was, Vi could still see her friend’s jaw harden, her eyes twitch that rare, ever-so-small real-anger-twitch.

“Come on,” she sighed, so damn _tired_ but keeping her voice even, “you know she didn’t mean it like that, and I know you didn’t mean to hit her with that Achilles-stab, either. So does she, really, it’ll just take her a bit to figure it out. Evading isn’t going to help, though.”

“..it’s not meant to,” Riko said to the table after a few moments of silence and a deep breath. And that.. that hit Vi like a damn brick, no, an entire wall to the head.

The conclusions so easily, so quickly, drawn from this, all of them, it was like something was ripping out her lung, definitely lung, not heart, no matter that she was still breathing. Vi hadn’t wanted that conclusion, had ignored it full on, telling herself Riko would never..

“Why’re you still here then,” she forced out in a pressed voice, painfully aware how her eyes were burning, feeling cold all over. It provoked a blink, then a bitter smirk, from a Riko who was still not even _looking_ at her. Vi felt like a gargoyle out at sunrise.

“Got a project to finish, then I’ll.. be on my way,” Riko said, “I’ll keep away from you til then, just send me an owl if you want anything for the debts I owe you.”

Yep, definitely a twisting knife in the lung. Lack of air made for a spinning sensation, too, Vi knew that. Anger was creeping along the broken edges of something now and she set her jaw. She would _not_ let Riko end this without being completely clear, no bloody way.

“I thought we were friends,” she said, voice steady if raw. “Chosen family and all that. You just gonna drop that, drop _us_ , like..”

“Vi,” Riko interrupted when her voice started to break and Vi was _not_ going to be thankful for that. Riko looked pained, hah, when _she_ was the one doing this!

“You can’t be friends with someone that scares you,” Riko said then, voice dry and brittle, “Nobody can even _live_ in the same place with something that is perceived as a threat, and..”

It was a wonder she’d even got that far, really just because, even as used to insanity and sudden twists as she’d become, _that_ tune completely toppled Vi’s view. Which was ridiculous, she’d seen Riko’s face yesterday, just before she left, how could she have _forgot_ that..

“Shut up,” Vi croaked, her hand covering Riko’s mouth, to make sure, to stop her from airing this complete and utter wrongness any longer. They shared a look of such mutual incomprehension that Vi could’ve started laughing hysterically if she weren’t the one to always handle shit.

“I’m not,” she said, before taking her hand away, “and you’re not, and..”

“Vi,” Riko said again, appearing torn between impatience and that painful, drily amused melancholy she sometimes had. “I do have eyes, and laudable as your jumping the first step is, it’s really not..”

Vi held up a finger and shot her a look that made Riko fall silent. “Shut up,” she repeated, “None of us are or ever were and or ever will be scared of you, you complete and utter idiot.”

Riko looked floored for a short moment, blinked, derailed, but then she was already opening her mouth again, clearly about to argue and Vi was not, _not_ going to let her!

“Listen up, alright, we were scared there for a moment, yes, but not of _you_ , it was just a completely fucked sitch and if you’d felt that.. it was like an airwave from an explosion or thunder cloud just about to blitz, it was just a scary _moment_ , but that doesn’t mean we’re scared of the source, none of us are going to be scared of explosions or thunder clouds.. or _you_!”

Riko sighed through her nose at her, closing her eyes, face a blank mask worthy of any Slytherin, and shook her head. Stubborn like a bloody mule.

“Honestly, that’s right nice,” Riko said, drily plucking the quotes like hair from a soup. “But I can’t imagine any of you going out to befriend an explosion or a thunder cloud, so thanks for the sentiment but please make at least a bit of an effort to look after yourselves, eh?”

Taking a deep breath and letting it out, Vi pinched the bridge of her nose, quietly counted up to seven. There was no way she was going to let Riko off the hook, now that she knew what was going on, but Morgana, Merlin and Nimue, why did it have to be so damn hard to make her see reason?

“You are so freaking impossible,” she sighed, “how do you even exist, I don’t get it.”

“Oh, that’s because I don’t,” Riko replied in a sharp, droll tone, “I’m really just a figment of your imagination, you’d better not talk to me, I hear it’s bad form, talking to hallucina – ow!”

Vi didn’t regret in the slightest clipping her friend, stupid, hurtful, maddening, utter idiot but still _hers_ , up the head. Even when suddenly someone, Professor Flitwick to be exact, cleared his throat directly by their desk. Looking at them very pointedly down his nose if barely over their desk. With the rest of the class suddenly also looking at them, expectantly, just like Professor Flitwick, and if he got started, but really, that had just been that one little step over the line, skipped like it wasn’t there, and it still stung, and the attached tangled mess, with just everything, and..

“Terribly sorry, Professor Flitwick,” Riko said, face red, clearing her throat all embarrassed-like at his sharp if amused look. “I really had that coming,” she threw a quick look up and sidewards at Vi, who was still bristling, barely able to keep her hands on the desk, and cleared her throat again. “I just had a stupid idea about shrinking charms and protection charms and completely forgot about the different ways density and weight are handled, and then I got stubborn and we got carried away, I’m so very sorry, we’ll be completely quiet and..”

“Yes-yes, I’m sure you will,” Professor Flitwick interrupted, his barely contained smile visible in the way his eyes crinkled. “Since you two are obviously not in need of the review you will surely have no trouble writing a short essay on the different groups of charms we did last year. Make sure to include the subject of your discussion, too. Two feet, try and be concise, hm?”

Then he turned back to the class, clapping shortly to return their attention to the review. Vi felt weak with gratitude, Circe’s circle, he hadn’t even taken points, he was such a brilliant wizard. And clearly Riko was alright, or at least going to be, handling it like that, right, heading back to normal, whatever that even was..

The review was generally regarded as a merciful start of the year and a good source of house points, so it didn’t take very long until the rest of the class forgot about them. Especially when neither of them did anything interesting, just sitting there quietly, eating their own thoughts.

“I’m really sorry, Vi,” said Riko very quietly to her parchment after ten minutes or so. “I didn’t mean you wouldn’t.. I mean, just look at Amy and Edie, yeah? Not that.. I mean, of course I’m..”

Vi lightly kicked her in the leg to shut her up. She also slid her elbow over to rest against her idiotic friend’s, glad to have Riko beside her again. Even if she also wanted to strangle her, a bit.

“Of course you are,” she said, and they were quiet for a while.

Vi was seriously exhausted and most of the entire mess was still half-cooked, what with Edie, and with Amy, and with Riko already having a new, as-yet-secret project, and of course Edie, because right now that qualified at least double, and Riko looked like Vi felt and then some, shite, and..

“Can you stick with Edie until I.. until we get clear? How’s she doing anyway, she looked right shit at lunch..” Riko asked carefully, shyly even, and as much as Vi wanted to ruffle her hair, a natural reaction to seeing her friend so strangely unsure, it reminded her of Edie’s mess and a certain Transfigs lesson they really needed to have words about and..

They were not, in fact, completely quiet for the rest of the lesson, but they were quiet enough for Professor Flitwick to ignore them. Hurrying up to the library afterwards, Vi felt more herself than she had in weeks, perhaps even months. She was, admittedly, also distracted enough to get ambushed by her damn crowd of cousins, but she only caught a few hits before she could get away and it was nothing she couldn’t fix herself. She still reached the library at the same time as Amy and Edie, so that was alright.

*

Amy had been very nervous about the Defence against the Dark Arts class ever since Edie had mentioned, like a mere detail, that the new teacher was a werewolf, too. Even more so when Vi had been much less sanguine about it, citing some not-described effect he’d had on Edie during the trip here. Despite his washed out and threadbare appearance he’d seemed capable and decent on the train, handling first the dementor and then Harry, and he’d quieted Malfoy down that first evening before they even entered the castle, and yes, Dumbledore had hired him. But still, Dumbledore had also hired Quirrelmort and Lockhart.

(And no, Amy was _not_ going to forget that Riko seemed to know something about Lockhart she didn’t share, but Riko, and all her secrets and the entire insanity and mess attached to her, were currently not something she could just _dwell_ on, alright, or she’d go mad - and she was already getting more mad every time she saw that nutcase! Honestly, first that spectacle in Transfiguration and then arriving so late for Potions that Amy had already sat with Neville. Just because she could and Snape wasn’t going to take points from a Slytherin for that and just..argh!)

Anyway, there had been reason to be nervous, especially with Vi asking her again to take care of Edie during Herbology, obviously really worried. It was at least one good thing in this entire mess of a year, that Edie seemed fine, well, mostly fine. At least she didn’t get any weird shivers again, like yesterday after Amy had followed her to the library. That had been honestly scary, especially because she herself had felt as if someone had just walked over her grave. But Professor Lupin was again entirely normal and mild-mannered, even if he was a bit late to arrive.

He smiled vaguely as they all looked up from their various conversations, and placed his tattered old briefcase on the teacher’s desk, looking much better than on the first, just a bit washed-out, in his threadbare, badly mended robes. He didn’t act weird towards Edie, and Edie, while tense and not-exactly-well, seemed mostly and very pointedly normal. It was a bit strange that he didn’t even take a roll call, after all he had never met them before, but he had looked so carefully over them all that Amy had a suspicion he was very aware of who was supposed to be there and who really was.

“Good afternoon,” he said. “Would you please put all your books back in your bags. Today’s will be a practical lesson. You will only need your wands.”

She made sure to stay between Edie and him while they packed their books back into their bags, although she had to be very careful about that. Damn, she wouldn’t have thought her bag would just rip like that, and she refused to read anything into it, just because it was Riko that had given it to her in first year, damnit, signs of that sort were for silly horoscopes! Edie was alternating between looking pointedly unimpressed by Amy’s body-guarding behaviour and overly careful as if waiting for a sudden attack. Even so, they exchanged curious looks while they followed Professor Lupin to their first practical lesson, ever.

On the way they promptly ran into Peeves the poltergeist, who was floating upside-down in mid-air and stuffing the nearest keyhole with chewing gum. Peeves didn’t look up until Professor Lupin was two feet away, then he wiggled his curly-toed feet and broke into song.

“Loony, loopy Lupin,” Peeves sang. “Loony, loopy Lupin, loony, loopy Lupin –”

Rude and unmanageable as he almost always was, Peeves usually showed some respect towards the teachers. Everyone looked quickly at Professor Lupin to see how he would take this; to their surprise, he was still smiling.

“I’d take that gum out of the keyhole, if I were you, Peeves,” he said pleasantly. “Mr Filch won’t be able to get in to his brooms.”

Peeves paid no attention to Professor Lupin’s words, except to blow a loud wet raspberry, which Amy could almost agree to. Yes, he was the caretaker and had a hard job, and being a squib, the exact opposite of a muggleborn like herself, he certainly had a hard time of it here. But still, Filch was a nasty, hateful git, which made it quite impossible to feel bad for him, or Miss Norris, his horrible cat, even while pranking them.

Professor Lupin gave a small sigh and pulled his wand out of his pocket. “This is a useful little spell,” he told the class over his shoulder. “Please watch closely.”

He raised the wand to shoulder height, said “Waddiwasi!” and pointed it at Peeves. With the force of a bullet, the wad of chewing gum shot out of the keyhole and straight down Peeves’s left nostril; he whirled right way up and zoomed away, cursing. Amy shot a look at Edie and knew they were going to research that spell, with luck this very afternoon.

“Cool, sir!” said Dean Thomas in amazement.

“Thank you, Dean,” said Professor Lupin, putting his wand away again. “Shall we proceed?”

As they set off again the class was looking at Professor Lupin with increased respect, even the Patils who had earlier remarked on his shabby appearance. He led them down a second corridor and the big staircase and stopped in the Entrance Hall, right outside the staff-room side-door.

“Inside, please,” said Professor Lupin, opening it and standing back.

The long, panelled room full of old, mismatched chairs, was empty except for Snape, who was sitting in a low armchair. He looked around as the class filed in, eyes hard and mouth twisting in a show of distaste and scorn. Professor Lupin made to close the door behind him, but Snape said, “Leave it open, Lupin. I’d rather not witness this.”

He got to his feet and strode past the class, his black robes billowing behind him. At the doorway he turned on his heel and said, “Possibly no one’s warned you, Lupin, but this class contains Neville Longbottom. I would advise you not to entrust him with anything difficult. Not unless Miss Granger is hissing instructions in his ear.”

Two feet over, Neville went scarlet. Amy glared at Snape; it was bad enough that he bullied Neville in his own classes, did he have to do it in front of other teachers, too? Besides, what had he expected, that she’d let him poison Trevor?

Professor Lupin had raised his eyebrows. “I was hoping that Neville would assist me with the first stage of the operation,” he said, “and I am sure he will perform it admirably.”

Neville’s face went, if possible, even redder. Snape’s lip curled as he left, shutting the door with a pointedly civilized snap.

“Now, then,” said Professor Lupin, beckoning the class towards the end of the room, where there was nothing except an old wardrobe in which the teachers kept their spare robes. As Professor Lupin went to stand next to it, the wardrobe gave a sudden wobble, banging off the wall. “Nothing to worry about,” said Professor Lupin calmly, as a few people jumped backwards in alarm. “There’s a boggart in there.”

Most people seemed to feel that this was something to worry about, alright. Neville gave Professor Lupin a look of pure terror, and Seamus eyed the now rattling doorknob apprehensively.

“Boggarts like dark, enclosed spaces,” said Professor Lupin. “Wardrobes, the gap beneath beds, the cupboards under sinks – I once met one that had lodged itself in a grandfather clock. This one moved in yesterday afternoon, and I asked the Headmaster if the staff would leave it to give my third-years some practice. So, the first question we must ask ourselves is, what is a boggart?”

Amy put up her hand. And admittedly started talking, but that came from knowing if she didn’t the Ravenclaw Patil would do it instead. “It’s a shape-shifter,” she said. “It can take the shape of whatever it thinks will frighten us most.”

“Couldn’t have put it better myself,” said Professor Lupin, and Amy traded a satisfied look with Parvati. Padma was pointedly looking at the wardrobe, ignoring them. Then Edie shifted slightly against her side and Amy realized with a start that Professor Lupin was watching them even while he continued explaining.

“So the boggart sitting in the darkness within has not yet assumed a form. He does not yet know what will frighten the person on the other side of the door. Nobody knows what a boggart looks like when he is alone, but when I let him out, he will immediately become whatever each of us most fears. This means,” he said kindly ignoring Neville’s small splutter of terror, “that we have a huge advantage over the boggart before we begin. Have you spotted it, Harry?”

Harry looked classically confused for a few seconds beside her and Amy wasn’t going to talk over him, but she couldn’t help bobbing up and down on the balls of her feet with her hand in the air. She knew, after all, and she wanted to just get _on_ with this already, honestly!

“Er – because there are so many of us, it won’t know what shape it should be?” Harry sounded unsure, but Professor Lupin nodded.

“Precisely,” he said, and Amy put her hand down, a little disappointed he was going to leave it at that when there was so much more to say.

“It’s always best to have company when you’re dealing with a boggart,” Professor Lupin explained, “He becomes confused. Which should he become, a headless corpse or a flesh-eating slug? I once saw a boggart make that very mistake – tried to frighten two people at once and turned himself into half a slug. Not remotely frightening. Now, the charm that repels a boggart is simple, yet it requires force of mind. You see, the thing that really finishes a boggart is laughter. What you need to do is force it to assume a shape that you find amusing. We will practise the charm without wands first. After me, please … riddikulus!”

“Riddikulus!” said the class together.

“Good,” said Professor Lupin. “Very good. But that was the easy part, I’m afraid. You see, the word alone is not enough. And this is where you come in, Neville.”

The wardrobe shook again, though not as much as Neville. He was walking forward as though he was heading for the gallows. Amy felt bad for him, knowing he disliked attention even more than Harry did.

“Right, Neville,” said Professor Lupin. “First things first: what would you say is the thing that frightens you most in the world?”

Neville’s lips moved, but no noise came out. It took a second prompting, Neville looking completely miserable while Professor Lupin was cheerful and encouraging, before the answer came out in barely more than a whisper. “Professor Snape,” he said. Nearly everyone laughed. Even Neville grinned apologetically. Professor Lupin, however, looked thoughtful. Amy was starting to have a very bad feeling.

“Professor Snape … hmmm … Neville, I believe you live with your grandmother?”

“Er – yes,” said Neville nervously. “But – I don’t want the boggart to turn into her, either.”

“No, no, you misunderstand me,” said Professor Lupin, now smiling. “I wonder, could you tell us what sort of clothes your grandmother usually wears?”

Amy could see where this was going, he clearly knew the answer already. The idea was at once very satisfying, especially after that last lesson, and terrible. Having the mean Potions master appear in a grandmothers green dress, with a red handbag and a hat with a stuffed vulture on top.. It was a worthy prank, she had to admit that, even if it was not exactly classy. Professor Snape was going to have a fit over it. But who’d get in trouble for it? Neville, of course. Not that he could do anything about it.. or Amy either. Damn. Amy watched morosely as Professor Lupin explained exactly how to picture the clothes, to really see them in your mind, and then set Neville up in front of the wardrobe.

“When the boggart bursts out of this wardrobe, Neville, and sees you, it will assume the form of Professor Snape,” he said. “And you will raise your wand – thus – and cry ‘Riddikulus’ – and concentrate hard on your grandmother’s clothes. If all goes well, Professor Boggart Snape will be forced into that vulture-topped hat, that green dress, that big red handbag.”

There was a great shout of laughter. The wardrobe wobbled more violently.

“If Neville is successful, the boggart is likely to turn his attention to each of us in turn,” said Professor Lupin. “I would like all of you to take a moment now to think of the thing that scares you most, and imagine how you might force it to look comical.”

The room went quiet. Amy rolled her eyes. She’d planned that out since she’ d read about the boggart, and she had spent most of last year in fear of being attacked, so it hadn’t been hard to figure something out. Harry shivered to her left and Edie was hugging herself to her right. Amy wanted to sigh. Was a boggart really the best thing for a first lesson? It was certainly no more harmless than a Hippogriff! Ron was muttering to himself, “Take its legs off,” clearly working with his fear of spiders.

“Everyone ready?” said Professor Lupin.

Most people were nodding or even rolling up their sleeves, but from the looks of it neither Harry nor Edie were ready to be confronted with their personal fear. Amy had a bad feeling neither would anyone else in the class. Just to be sure she made them stand with her, so she could jump in front of them if they were called.

“Neville, we’re going to back away,” said Professor Lupin. “Let you have a clear field, all right? I’ll call the next person forward.. everyone back, now, so Neville can get a clear shot –”

They all retreated, backing against the walls, leaving Neville alone beside the wardrobe. He looked pale and frightened, but he had pushed up the sleeves of his robes and was holding his wand ready.

“On the count of three, Neville,” said Professor Lupin, who was pointing his own wand at the handle of the wardrobe. “One – two – three – now!”

A jet of sparks shot from the end of Professor Lupin’s wand and hit the doorknob. The wardrobe burst open. Hook-nosed and menacing, a villainous caricature of Professor Snape stepped out, his eyes flashing at Neville. Neville backed away, his wand up, mouthing wordlessly. Boggart Snape was bearing down upon him, reaching inside his robes.

“R-r-riddikulus!” squeaked Neville.

There was a noise like a whip-crack. Snape stumbled; he was wearing a long, lace-trimmed dress and a towering hat topped with a moth-eaten vulture, a huge crimson handbag was swinging from his hand. Amy found herself surprised by a pang of anger at what looked a lot like a conservative caricaturist’s work against.. women, or non-standard people, or something like that. Around her rose a roar of laughter; the boggart paused, confused, and Professor Lupin shouted, “Parvati! Forward!”

Parvati walked forward, her face set. With another sharp crack Snape turned into a blood-stained, bandaged mummy and Amy focused on the here and now.

“Riddikulus!” cried Parvati and a bandage unravelled at the mummy’s feet; it became entangled, fell face forwards, and then its head rolled off.

“Seamus!” roared Professor Lupin and Seamus darted past Parvati. Crack! Where the mummy had been was a woman with floor-length black hair and a skeletal, green-tinged face – a banshee. She opened her mouth wide, and an unearthly wailing shriek filled the room.

“Riddikulus!” shouted Seamus and the banshee made a rasping noise and clutched her throat; her voice was gone.

Crack! The banshee turned into a rat, which chased its tail in a circle, then – crack! – became a rattlesnake, which slithered and writhed before – crack! – becoming a single, bloody eyeball.

“It’s confused!” shouted Lupin. “We’re getting there! Dean!”

Dean hurried forward. Crack! The eyeball became a severed hand, which flipped over, and began to creep along the floor like a crab.

“Riddikulus!” yelled Dean and with a loud snap the hand was trapped in a mousetrap.

“Excellent! Ron, you next!”

Ron leapt forward and with the next “Crack!” there were a few shocked screams. It was a spider, two feet tall and covered in hair, an acromantula. “Riddikulus!” bellowed Ron, and the spider’s legs vanished. It rolled over and over; Lavender Brown squealed and ran out of its way and it came to a halt beside her, at Harry’s feet. Amy raised her wand, just as Harry did, but –

“Here!” shouted Professor Lupin suddenly, hurrying forward. And with another loud “Crack! ’ the legless spider vanished. A silvery white orb was hanging in the air in front of Lupin, who said “Riddikulus!” almost lazily.

“Forward, Neville, and finish him off!” said Lupin, as the boggart landed on the floor as a cockroach. Crack! Snape was back. This time Neville charged forward looking determined.

“Riddikulus!” he shouted, and they had a split second’s view of Snape in his lacy dress before Neville let out a great “Ha!” of laughter, and the boggart exploded, burst into a thousand tiny wisps of smoke, and was gone.

“Excellent!” cried Professor Lupin, as the class broke into applause.

He ended the lesson quickly, giving five points to everyone who had tackled the boggart, which meant Neville got ten. Harry and her got five each, for answering the question, and he set them a rather easy homework, writing a summary about the boggart of course. Harry looked distracted and Amy had the suspicion it was about the boggart, but he was at least as secretive as.. well, probably not as Riko, but certainly as stubborn as her if he didn’t want to talk. And besides, your greatest fear was probably not just a touchy subject for Slytherins.

As they filed out and went back to get their bags, everyone agreed it had been a great lesson, talking excitedly about their boggart-defeats. Amy had to agree, generally, but couldn’t help some disappointment about not getting to defeat her ghostly basilisk. It would’ve felt great, she was sure, to take on a monster directly and really take it out for once. It also would’ve spared her Ron’s needling about her boggart probably just being a piece of homework that didn’t get full grades. He was such an idiot at times, honestly, he just didn’t get it. On the other hand, this way Edie had got out of it, too, and it might well have activated for her, or for Harry for that matter, and Amy was sure either would’ve ended badly. This way they could hurry on to the library to meet Vi, and perhaps the Hufflepuff had got something on Riko, she was their best shot at it, depressing and maddening as that was.

It turned out Vi had got at least a little info on Riko, and Amy found herself forced to confirm that Riko had tried to make her homework unreadable by _accidentally_ pouring her ink on it. And then Neville’s ink. And had, as far as she knew, succeeded and now had to write it again. Amy wouldn’t have expected such a trick from Professor McGonagall. It didn’t change much, though. Clearly Riko considered other things more important than to show up herself and properly clean the air between them. It pissed Amy off to no end, but like Edie she grit her teeth and left it at that.

There was no point in ranting at Vi, it wasn’t her fault, and they had lots of homework already, Amy most of all. Besides, with the mood Edie was currently in it might even be better, she seemed about as upset about not getting to face her fear as at the potential of having to face it. At the same time, dear-hearted shizo that she sometimes was. Amy didn’t think another full-out explosion of tempers would be helpful, and those two _were_ likely to set each other off, right now, and after Edie’s breakdown yesterday.. no thanks. Better get a good start on their coursework and wait until rational thinking returned to the scene.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again, yeah, clearly everyone is thinking perfectly clearly, and sanely, and so on and so forth... this will be such a great year.. yeah..


	10. ..On Crooked Ways..

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yes, everyone is, and is going to be, very sane and not at all subjective, or plagued by blind spots, most certainly not influenced by any dementor effects, or anything else, sure. No need to worry about anyone jumping to any conclusion or.. yeah.. /sigh/.. this year is gonna be just great...

It was a fairly awful Friday, as far she could pay any attention to that fact, and Riko didn’t feel even remotely settled or safe before she was back in the den she’d found yesterday. She was still rattled by Vi’s.. by Vi. Everything else she could handle, had handled, would handle. With the assurance of not being ratted out she could finish her project and it couldn’t be that hard to maybe get into Beauxbatons or otherwise just learn on the road, Riko wasn’t going to stay and be a bother for them.

But this.. Riko knew, knew for a cold fact, from fucking experience, it was better to cut your losses, better to have a civil understanding and leave it there, than to hang around rubbing edges and bristles. And then Vi just refused to let it go, to let _her_ go, and it was.. it wasn’t that Riko didn’t believe her fr.. didn’t believe Vi, she wasn’t one to lie to your face, Riko wouldn’t need the cueroscope to know that, but it was just.. unexpected. Odd. Didn’t make sense.

Well, no, it did, but it was scary. It was freakishly terrifying and all around terrible because Riko knew she could trust Vi, she knew it as a definite fact, because she knew Vi; but she couldn’t seem to really believe it, right now, and that was just the worst, was proof that _she_ was the absolute worst. No point going nuts about it now though, right. She’d just.. keep an eye on it, right, watch where it went and get over it because this went past healthy paranoia, right? (Did it really?) It was just not the correct area to apply it. (Wasn’t it?) She just had to relax with them again, fix it. (Only, how?) Huh. First she had to get at least civil with Amy, and Edie, and that was sure to take a while on both accounts, and from both sides.

Amy had last looked ready to spew fire at her, and Riko wasn’t sure what would happen if she were suddenly confronted with Edie. You couldn’t kick someone and scream bloody murder at them while at the same time begging their forgiveness on your knees and hands, right, so, best not try. Get rational, let tempers cool. At least over the weekend, for sure. For now it was Friday, after lessons, and she was safely in a den in the Forbidden Forest, again with a basket straining to hold all the food. Also, the komainu was still there and still out cold. Right, he was fine. Of course.

To be fair, she was starting to feel right done in, too, now that.. hah, now that mission mode had retreated a bit, as she was starting to feel just a bit safe. Riko hissed in discomfort as she stretched out her legs before her; she had scratches and abrasion all over, but her right leg was the worst. She closed her eyes and focussed on healing what she’d neglected so far, which was everything not immediately visible. It left her queasy and glad she was sitting already. Nothing to be done about the bruises she could already feel again, despite having renewed the Antheraliptis just before entering the kitchen. Well, except stretch her legs out and renew the charm, too bad they were so much harder to deal with than cuts and such.

Riko opened her eyes with a tired sigh and stared at the earth not a yard above her head for a few breaths before rolling over on her side and wriggling out of her school robe. It was just not practical, down here, and it didn’t keep her warm anyway, hadn’t all day. The Antheraliptis helped and an added Calidus didn’t hurt, either. Curling up again, just resting her eyes a little, was very tempting but Riko knew better. She hadn’t brought that basket for the fun of it. Only question was how best to get up her, hm, flatmate? Because as important as rest was, she was damn sure he needed food, or rather energy, more. And no way was she going to repeat yesterday’s fail. He was already paranoid enough.

Hm.. well, it seemed a good idea. And he didn’t wake up from either the Antheraliptis or the Calidus. Hm. She carefully prodded him with her left foot, maximum distance. Repeatedly and with increasing vehemence. Riko was on her last intended try of that sort, a pointed, not very quiet _Oy_ accompanying her rather sharp kick when he woke up at last. And of course waking up meant going from dead to the world to snarling teeth in one single fucking moment. Fantastic. Good she’d drawn her leg back immediately. Also good she wasn’t aiming her wand at him, because Riko was not in fact a complete idiot.

“Ahno, hey,” she said, and alright, maybe she was, a bit, after all.

The komainu, who still hadn’t given her anything to call him by, was sweeping his immediate surroundings with a look of paranoia that wasn’t coming off as practised so much as instinctive. Well, Riko’s hands were open, her stance not one of attack at all, and although she was by necessity of his placing sitting between him and both exits there was ample room on either side of her to pass, she wasn’t blocking any of them. All of this confirmed, twice, his eyes eyes caught on the food in the circle, then the basket, then her again. Riko was just about to ramble through a cheerful, easy-going explanation of matters, because that was one did in such situations, but then he.. sniffed down his leg and.. ah..

“Yeah, no, listen, that was so you’d get the wards, a’right..”

Of course he’d immediately severed her knotted impromptu bracelet, not a shackle, fuck’ sake, fantastic, so much for those wards. Riko sighed, though mostly about her own idiocy. At least he recalled _that_ , even if they were now back to growls and snarls instead of civility.

“Of course they didn’t, they were mine, after all, and only really simple ones, I told you. ’Sides there’s no wards as go for shadows.”

And what a look that got her, sheesh, even if she admittedly had a tendency to be a bit smug about that, alright, it was just really neat. But he left it alone, instead continuing to be growly and paranoid. Grand, why exactly had she wanted to come here again..?

“Yeah, I did, different sitch and all, I did have lessons t’day. Now how ’bout y’unbend a bit and get to eatin’, s’why I woke y’up y’know.”

There was no further conversation while they ate, which was not as hard work as yesterday but still damn exhausting. And as much as Riko was ready to go by travellers manners and everything, with him saving her and all, there were limits of.. of manners, and quiet and, alright, of lack of distraction!

“I’m not expecting yer name, though I gave you mine, but if y’don’t give me _some_ name to call you I’ll have to come up with one myself..”

Riko had said it lightly, or tried to at any rate, but she was a bit too done in to not have some dry and flat seep into her tone. The komainu only looked at her, his pale eyes shining but unreadable, just watching, no more tense than just before, but no less either, just wary, expectant.

“Oh, fine,” she huffed, leaning back, finished with eating and really ready to just curl up already. Hah, right. Soon, though, hopefully.

“Lessee.. how ’bout.. Monsieur LeNuit.. or Kuro-san? Hmf, or Sir Snarls-a-Lot, how bout that, hm? Growls McGrowls? Che, alright already, I get it, no descriptors, y’could just tell me one if ye’re so picky!” Riko sighed, holding herself still but not backing down at the komainu’s sudden temper.

Wouldn’t do, twitching at such, not at all, setting such precedents, and if he thought he could make her cower.. yeah, no. He seemed to get it too, subsiding, still watching her with his eerie bright eyes. His staring was oddly similar to how Potter tended to get, cheh, only different in tone, and of course no matter how weird Potter got he didn’t have a komainu’s shiny, softly glowing silvery eyes. Bit like stars, hm.

“So pleased t’meet ya then, Seiya-dono,” Riko nodded her head and sketched a bow with her arm, “Do excuse th’manners but ye’r too scruffy for most else and if you’re a saint then I’m a fish..”

He blinked at that, actually looking a bit nonplussed, and Riko gave up on hiding her smirk, then laughed when he sat back, tilting his head. “S’from a story, yeah, but I don’t actually know it, never got ’round to reading it, just saw the covers and some pics but yeah, all action and drama..”

Seiya huffed but didn’t refute his new name. It was an interesting huff, too, mixed layers of paranoia (thick ones, lots and lots), amusement (sardonic, bitter, thin and few), confusion (more of those, also different in tone, from curious to defensive) and whatever else, but she was too tired right now to dig further. He himself was interesting at least as much as those layers anyway, what was a komainu doing here, after all, and in such a state, and all alone and so on, but, yeah, Riko was not so crazy as to think she’d get any answers if she asked.

It was agreed silently, well, mostly silently, that rest was on the top five points of their list at the very least. Riko shook out her waddled-up school robes into another blanket and then, nursing an unpleasant pounding behind her eyes, crawled into the two tunnels and recast her wards, this time tying them to a string from her pocket. It was a bit tiresome to get Seiya to accept it but worth it when he relaxed just slightly.

When the alarm she’d set on her pocket watch woke her, Riko sighed resignedly and took a few more breaths, lying still with the bony warmth of the.. of Seiya against her back. It felt like she’d rested only a few minutes, not hours. She tiredly rubbed at her eyes and, when the movement didn’t draw any reaction, let an Antheraliptis seep from her palm, first on herself and when that worked on Seiya too. Neat. She felt less guilty afterwards for waking him, same way as earlier. Seriously, she really wanted to know how one got to that level of paranoia, but, well, priorities. This morning’s circle had of course already dispersed, so Riko made a new one, loaded the food from this afternoon’s basket in, and with a short farewell left Seiya chewing dutifully behind her as she slipped up outside and into the forest as a shadow.

Dusk had fallen already and everything was shifting dark and moving shadows, but unlike usual the twilight and shades didn’t make her feel safer. As soon as she’d returned to corporeality the nagging feel of cold and subtle threat just out of view set back in. She was still grateful of the dark because it meant she could return to the castle via shadow, even if it left her a bit winded. No Obscurantis out here, though, no way, not with the potential of dementors lurking about. Riko was so lost in thought that she didn’t call it up at all, it was still before curfew, if not much, and she’d have to let some housemates, most notably some prefects, note her presence anyway, and, gods and spirits, deal with whatever fall-out she’d avoided all day, along with any interaction with her yearmates, and avoiding lunch, and hah, right, yesterday’s mess during Creature Care, and get her mindset right, settle it down into student mode, che-oh..

Shockingly enough it turned out to be easier than expected. For one, she wasn’t ambushed at all on account of having stayed out last night as she made a distracted beeline for her dorm. But then, it was fairly quiet, most all upper-years were apparently gone for a Start-of-the-Year Do at the Hufflepuff Den. Also, Draco was already back, sitting with his usual clique by one of the couch-groupings, and called, actually called her over, by her nick, too. Such a Cobra, gods, even if he clearly meant well. Riko joined them in their homework for Potions on Monday.

The others were of course already further along so Riko simply kept at it when they started a game of Slytherin’s Wizarding Chess. Well, Draco and Tony did, Vingory chose to badly cheat each other at dice. But, well, this was really alright, she could work this. Riko was able to deflect her absence in History of Magic by reminding Tony of Draco’s debt in inches, after which her housemate didn’t even mention their arrangement regarding notes of that very class at all. This, and of course the note attached to Vi’s note from her bedside table this morning, meant Riko was not surprised at all when Tony followed her into the bathroom once they returned to their dorm room.

“Racer knows you were pretty done in yesterday and went to sleep early; she came by a bit after dinner to see all was well,” Tony said upon closing the door behind her. “I assume you found the note, Dita brought it back from the library.”

Riko nodded, readying her toothbrush. Interesting that Sorrentino.. well, later, for now, it had been rather nice of Tony to cover for her. And really, it was only fair, friendly even, that she asked about the matter with the note. Would ’ve come up either way, after all.

“Yeah, we, er, got in a bit of a mess and got separated..” Riko said and shrugged, then shifted lightly when she made room for Tony and her right leg moved against the loo. It was nice that her roommate was so smart she liked to fill in reasonable assumptions on her own.

“Mhm,” Tony said, “must’ve been something to recommend the same after-care as, what did she say, that case with the griffin?”

“Yeah, figurative speech, and badgers worry, y’know,” Riko huffed a small laugh.

That was Tony, or Cera in this case, really, full on crotalus cerastes mode, of course she’d know what the note said and want to know what exactly had been up and why she hadn’t heard of it if it warranted hearing-of, which was a decent assumption with Vi’s text. Not that this was any criticism of Vi; the line of quidditch, seeker, snitch would have been far too obvious there.

“As I said, it turned into a bit of a mess, I’m not surprised they wouldn’t want it known. Nothing, ah, relevant or permanent, though..” Riko smiled brightly and shrugged again, then busied herself letting a steaming bath.

It was literally true if slightly more smokescreen than she usually liked to use with her closest housemate, but she knew it’d fit with what Tony knew about the whole problem with Vi and her family. The thoughtful hum behind her had turned to silence when Riko got into the water and she allowed herself to relax properly for what felt the first time in years. When she’d soaked enough and returned tired and loose-limbed to the room, a jar of purple-ish goo was sitting on her bed.

“It’s good for stressed muscles,” Tony said evenly, then pointedly, silently closed the historical overview by Bagshot she’d been clearly lurking behind, putting it away. “I just can’t deal with this drivel,” she declared airily, “it’s all very good that you don’t have to do the first couple essays but if this continues I’ll go mad.”

She’d very thoroughly fluffed her pillow by the end of this, and shot a single short look with a single raised eyebrow at Riko. The damage already done, there really wasn’t much to do, except appease with “Well, I’m sure there’s some better ones in the library,” and shoot back a mild eye-roll.

Having drawn her curtains, glad of the layers of green silk between herself and the world, Riko opened the jar. It smelled strongly of pineapple, lavender, and something sharper, more pungent, and had the weird effect of feeling at once cooling and warming as she rubbed it into her bruises, well, at least where she could reach. Even with this handicap it was freakishly fantastic and allowed her to drift off easily. And, well, suddenly avoiding to undress wouldn’t ’ve worked either.

Luckily, this time Riko didn’t shout loud enough to wake anyone when she came to – about an hour later according to her watch. With a disgusted sigh she listened around to make sure of this, then rummaged quietly through her trunk to start a book list for Tony. Well, to go through her notes from last year, really, this term was apparently going to be fourteenth century, and surely Tony could get a note from her dear spellfather to allow her to read those _evil, restricted_ journals and what-not. When she felt herself starting to nod off again, Riko did another Antheraliptis and then killed the light from the dream-furin she’d fixed overhead. It was meant for Amy, mostly for the reading-light factor, though Riko had figured being petrified might have left her friend with a bit of a shock, but resources, using them, and still feeling sucked dry. Besides, the birthday was still over a fortnight off.

When Riko rose next day she really just crawled out of bed instead of staying there after waking the bloody fucking umpteenth time, and only because her watch had told her it was light outside and also late enough to not be counted night time. Her potions essay was finished and she’d made good inroads on her detention essay for Professor Flitwick. She was also grumpy enough to decide against interacting with anyone at all, today or maybe forever. Was more than an hour of uninterrupted sleep really too much to ask? She ignored the showers with a wistful sigh, she really didn’t want to wake the others, so opening the window and lake water it was. At least that woke her up right away.

She left the jar and book list for Tony to find and went to bite her tongue to stay friendly and apologetic and grateful for a new basket of foodstuffs from the house elves. That wasn’t hard, most of the elves were busy with breakfast and Finny quickly sent her away with some of it. The trend from Friday held, as regards to eerie cold and bad feeling under her skin, precipitating much the same results. Riko took her books along but she didn’t get much done over the weekend, as she and Seiya alternated between resting and eating. Sleeping went better with a komainu at her back, of course, but that was to be expected and no solution to her current problem.

For one, she still woke up shaking from those stupid, thrice-cursed, pointless dreams, just less often, and secondly, she could hardly just put him into her pocket and drag him to her room. She’d just have to deal and get this over with, she’d managed that last year, no reason to fall apart now that she already had come up with a follow-up. It was bound to be some after-effect, she’d have to research dementors properly anyway. And _that_ was going to be restricted, of course, if those creatures didn’t qualify as Dark then Riko didn’t know what did, so she’d have to go at night. Which was really the main reason she stayed around as much, and visibly, in the common room and went to bed visibly with her roommates. After the second case (just to be sure) of her furin preventing the repeat of her dreams, Riko headed for the library and started digging through the registry for dementors.

Monday came as a shock, somehow, which was stupid but didn’t change or improve anything at all. Lack of sleep never did anything good for anyone, much less if you had to sit through lessons, and with the people round her.. cheh. First she had to Obscure herself to avoid Amy, because bad timing, clearly, and because Draco just had to be fashionably late for first period after being checked again by Madam Pomfrey.

Which was, in it’s entirety, it’s very own special can of worms, really. Riko was grateful he didn’t seem to hold her the least responsible for his elbow. Which, yes, she could see wasn’t _entirely_ normal yet by the way he moved it. And she got why he insisted so loudly and exaggeratedly it wasn’t healed yet, nobody liked showing real weakness. And, well, Flint was Flint. And she didn’t really care much about it, seriously. But.

Did he have to be such an enormous dick about it? Did he really have be rubbing into people’s face that _excessively_ that he really wasn’t hurt. The effect of I-do-what-I-want was neatly cancelled by it clearly being about quidditch, and thus on Flint’s orders, and just.. cho’so, it was his constant Potter-feuding, and of course Weasley-feuding, all over again, which after all the shit from last year.. not smart! At all!

Charms with Vi was almost alright, distracting and mostly quiet, but then, because house day, traditionally anyway and Riko had no reason to change it yet, she was sitting through lunch with a smug, gloating Draco. Riko was starting to worry about grinding her teeth down if she kept at this. She also had a reply from Lord Malfoy and Lady Narcissa, who also didn’t blame her, which was good, but the rest of it was not reassuring at all, and then it was time for Runes before she could formulate any sort of plan.

That was interesting enough to let her actually forget the very uncomfy set-up, avoiding Amy via Obscurantis again and sitting with Theo, while Vi sat with Edie, which left Amy sitting alone. Still, the lesson was great. Professor Babbling, despite her unflattering name, had a very firm, structured grasp on the subject and although it was only a lead-in, it was damn interesting. Yes, it was very lecture, no open discussion or questions, but she was very detailed and perceptive, taking on the very idea on how to structure not just runes but languages and, well, what was tied to it, too. There was the genealogical way, although of course there was always arguing over particulars there, or in types of writing, which simply separated by how it depicted what, logographic versus logophonetic versus syllabic versus various alphabets, and the assorted views clashing there and of course by region it was used in, which was neglected in the other cases and could explain influences.. it was really neat, showing that all views had pro and con features.

Then it was time for the first lesson of Defence with that.. with Lupin, Riko was not going to call him Professor after the stunt he’d pulled in his lesson with the mane-brains. Against not only a colleague but a head-of-house, and as a new teacher, one who was dependant on this very colleague to supply him with a very advanced potion, too. What sort of behaviour was that supposed to be? Longbottom had been a wreck during Potions, and Professor Snape conclusively terrible, and Malfoy had used it as an opportunity to have Potter and his Weasley do his dirty work, cutting the maggots and all, and this, all of this, was a disgusting mess. How was anyone supposed to get over last year’s bullshit, which had alienated their house from the entire school, just, what the hell?

At least the lesson was with Vi, and while they did do boggarts he didn’t have one on hand. Riko appreciated that inconceivably much as she had the very bad feeling hers would turn into a dementor and she had not the slightest clue how to make one of those seem funny. There was an equal chance he’d turn into a pile of corpses or somesuch but, haha, same problem there. She refused completely to speculate on Vi’s, and the entire idea of laying open your fear in such a group was a nightmare anyway. Sadly, that was pretty much the only good thing about it. Riko wasn’t going to pretend she was starting at neutral, not after his previous offences, but about halfway through the lesson she decided it wouldn’t ’ve made a difference. It started with him using their given names, the absolutely first time any teacher had ever had that gall, and continued in the bland, overt, and fucking insulting politeness and condescending way he talked and taught.

Only about half the Hufflepuffs seemed to catch onto it, and only half of those seemed to give a fuck, but, well. And, admittedly, if it weren’t for.. well, the entirety of last year, and roughly a fuckton of other assorted shit, even all of that might have been just another Defence-freak-thing for Riko. After the last two years, and from what she’d overheard from the upper years, the yearly new Defense-teachers were never a great loss, you just had to make the best of it as it came. But he just had to keep on constantly _watching_ her, always shooting her these _looks_ , measuring, inquisitive, suspicious, so damn obvious about trying to figure it all out, trying to figure _her_ out, eyeing her even more than the rest of her housemates, well, her and Vi of course. About halfway through the lesson Riko had reached a point where she just wanted to stab him. In the face.

With the constant scrutiny she could also hardly communicate with Vi beyond some exasperated looks, and of course there was the whole participating in the lesson thing, too. Just because he was all set to patronize and stonewall them, specially the Slytherins as it turned out, did not mean they’d just let him. Just as despite the last two years they wouldn’t give any excuse to the headmaster to not let them win the house cup. When the lesson was over at last, they were among the first racing out the room, round the corner, and under the cover of a shared Obscurantis. They had Flying next and with the relatively short way there was enough time to talk properly somewhere.

There was just one problem. As they leaned against the wall just outside their favourite side-exit, shivering in the overcast, drafty weather, Riko suddenly didn’t know what to say. She’d spent what felt like the last few _years_ grinding her jaw and swallowing back bitter retorts and even the fag she lit couldn’t get rid of the bad aftertaste. Vi took one from the offered-up pack and Riko enjoyed the quiet for a few more moments, then exhaled with a small sigh, readying herself. She couldn’t expect Vi to break it, and staying quiet would equal a sort of inquisitive pressure or somesuch and..

“You alright?” asked Vi at the same time Riko started with her own, “You three alright?” (because asking Vi about herself was a surefire way to awkward doom with no answers, while this included a good chance of a least comparative info) The following silence was still a bit awkward but also better as they shared a look of sardonic understanding.

“I’m a’right,” Riko offered up first, then fired back a flat look at Vi’s raised eyebrow. She’d said alright, not fine, knowing very well how Vi got, and besides, she was, alright that was. Not actively hurt or whatever, bit short on rest and relaxation but perfectly able to function. “Told ya, got in a bit of a scrap in th’ forest but it’s just a few bruises, fading fast, got something for it, all under control..” she added, because Vi kept on looking worried and that was just not on.

Tony had made her a gift of the jar, and by today Riko was, well, not almost but at least very nearly recovered already. For a goo mainly meant to relief stressed out muscles, because, let’s be sure, Tony needed nothing against bruises except from duelling moves.. definitely not bad.

“Which is why you look like you want to tear out someone’s throat with your teeth..?” Vi asked, well, commented.

Riko rolled her eyes, waved her hands a little. “Well, I’m not doing it, am I. I said under control, and there’s a reason I avoided.. it’s just so everyone can cool off, yeah?”

Vi was quiet for so long, just looking at her, that Riko was just about to call her on the challenge, not throw it back at her, no, she’d said under control and she meant it, but to comment, or just go with a flat what, sans question mark and all, when her friend shrugged.

“Alright,” Vi conceded, looking off towards the direction of the Pitch. “It’s valid reasoning,” she said, and it was solid and calm and.. alarming. Not the usual not pushing, no, more a stepping back, not so much tolerant or understanding as distant, distancing.

Riko pinched the bridge of her nose, staring unseeingly in the same direction, scrambling through possibilities and reasonings. Breathing out a long, directed stream of smoke was not a sigh and, stars and shades, she really was an idiot.

“We already had a matter between us before, though, ne?” she asked, but it was because of her uncertainty on how best to handle this, how to handle it at all really, not on account of her being unsure of that fact. A fact Riko had a very uncomfortably clear idea on what it’d be about.

“Hm,” was all Vi said and Riko was honestly too ridiculously scared to look over so she focused on being still instead.

Because she knew that the horrible, terrible, no-good state Vi had been in when she arrived was on her, just from how tensely Vi was guarding all the time there, not just herself but also Riko. She also had a very good idea on how it came about, the invitation too, and just because Vi didn’t let her go didn’t mean all was well. Yes, she could trust Vi, obviously, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t affect the shape of, of their friendship, understanding, kinship. And that was the really scary part. The idea of a clean cut and the gaping, bleeding hole it’d leave had seemed.. workable. But then Vi had said no, had held on, and it scared Riko more than the alternative now, the idea of muddling along with broken remains of shards and fissures.. of not having any more while seeing it possible. After all..

“Yeah, but not right now, hm,” Vi stated, as if in conclusion of something Riko hadn’t caught. “S’got time ’til tempers have levelled out, I’d say.”

Something, Riko decided it was a cough, escaped her and she hunched forward a bit and cleared her throat. “Ta, err, sorry,” she managed, shooting her friend a look of embarrassed, fervent gratitude.

“Gesundheit,” Vi answered wryly and yes, it was guarded, a bit, controlled in a way that was not usual, not for them, but it was Vi and somehow it balanced.

“Pft,” Riko made a face, firmly settling her tone in light-hearted irony, “and here I was so glad we’ll be alright in some distant, far-away future that I was going to compare you favourably to your house guardian..”

“Mhmm,” Vi made an exaggerated impression of the great bear’s rolling movements with her bony shoulders, “flighty as we are, we should get the lightning and dark cloud necessary for th’lesson, then, mhm..”

Riko couldn’t hold in a short laugh at that and after they’d disintegrated their almost-finished fags and made sure via ping that the coast was clear they headed down to their favourite, very close and narrow staircase to the dungeons. Only part of why it was their favourite exit, but an important one. Her “Meet you at the bear?” was met with a very normal “Right.” Dry but still pleased and, most importantly, almost as it should be. They got in some fun flying before the lesson started, Riko had brought one of the tennis balls they’d used for goalitch, and they kept fooling around with it during the lesson, too. Of course it didn’t really signal a change of crapitude, but Riko hadn’t really expected it to anyway.

First, after the lesson, she had to explain to a disapproving Finny that no, she hadn’t been eating with her friends but she’d found a hurt creature in the forest and didn’t want to bother Hagrid as he had enough troubles right now and yes, normal food was alright, yes, it was really alright. In the den, Seiya was still dead to the world and Riko sighed, a bit disappointed to have no reason to postpone her return to the lair. But, well, she could swing by later, take tonight’s book along. Was bound to be safer to drift off here than in the library anyway. It bothered her all the way back to her common room that she hadn’t even cast a Calidus on him, but he still reacted very badly to anyone close to him when woken, and casting on him unawares did have a good chance to wake him by now, and he did need the rest.

And, admittedly, she was just distracting herself from daily business because it sucked. She sat on the table her yearmates had occupied but remained obscured, just because. The startled reactions when they started for dinner, though rather mild – they were somewhat used to the occurrence by now – were amusing and worth keeping quiet over Draco gloating about his taunting of Potter and Weasley. But then he kept at it during the meal, of course with more theatrics towards the Gryff table, and Riko really wished she hadn’t been talking with Tony on the way, leaving her now stuck so close to this mess.

She’d sat with her eyes to the door, which meant the Gryffindor table was behind her, and over the course of the dinner this did not ease her mind in the least, with all the provocation Draco was sending that way. Riko could practically feel the simmering anger between her shoulder blades. For bonus Monday-doom she got Amy glaring at her from the Hufflepuff table, while Edie, beside the Gryffindor, was pointedly and coldly ignoring her. Riko didn’t eat much, after all she’d have a late dinner in the forest in just a few hours, and also eating required opening one’s mouth.

If she had any sense at all, Riko realized back in the lair, she’d have left off studying and followed the more temperate parts of her year as they collected their books and stuff from the table to play cards in one of the newly arranged corners. Over the summer the common room had been redecorated, tastefully and of course again with lots of green, and Riko had still not gotten round to properly explore it. But no. Her Transfigs homework wasn’t anywhere near as finished as it should be with McGonagall’s lesson tomorrow, and she’d wanted to pick a few theory-bones by poking Tony with her own unstructured views on it all. At least the animagi-rewrite was done, although she hadn’t been able to change it as much as she’d wanted, not after Vi told her the Tartan had actually read it anyway. And fuck _that_ to all the hells and back.

But there was no point in cussing the hypocritical sneakiness of that sour-faced cat. Point was, she’d managed to write it similar enough and properly name the appropriate sources and not mention any inappropriate sources at all. Instead she’d muddled what she’d got from them thoroughly and then attributed it to her own wild theorizing, which, yes, not proper in a literary or academic sense but Riko had no desire to get in trouble for reading restricted-slash-illegal books. Not again, after last year, and certainly not from the Tartan. So Riko poked Tony with Transfigs theory and got a few good points, too, but all in all it didn’t really play out, because Draco. You really couldn’t say it any different way, unless you wanted to natter, or rant, a few hours about, among other descriptions, attention-seeking, gloating, smug, clueless, short-sighted cobras, and, ah, no.

She’d tried to not say anything on it, she really had. After all, it had been her as pushed him on the damn rock. And he had been very nice about that. But he just had to keep going on and _on_ about it, and how Tony was so convincing in her doting, and he clearly wanted a reaction and, well. At least this time Riko kept it all under control, no repeat of last year’s embarrassing explosion, all nice and polite and proper. She didn’t snap her book shut or anything like that either, just very carefully cleaned her glass quill off and very deliberately put it in her book as a mark.

“You think this whole thing is funny?” she enquired pleasantly into the sudden quiet of their group and didn’t give him the chance to answer, didn’t let him start to play his audience, just kept talking. “This isn’t just about you having a laugh at the rest of the school, y’know! You didn’t perchance forget last year, that whole mess and the entire school practically encouraged to turn on us? This entire situation is fucked up and wrong and you’re not helping, the exact opposite, even!”

She huffed an annoyed sigh then, and drew some hair behind an ear because that was of course not the way to get Draco to do anything except maybe the opposite of what you wanted. K’so, and after she’d sat on it and bit her tongue for days. But.. it just _was_ that way! Worst of all, before he quickly covered it up she could see Draco knew it too. But of course he didn’t know how to fix it and thus he of course had to claim there was no problem. There he went rolling his eyes and scoffing it off, “Great Merlin, you do know which house you’re in, right?”

Riko felt one of her eyes twitch at his sneer, at the sheer idiocy of the words, just, all of it. And then the git just completely ignored what she’d said as he added smugly “Getting all worked up just because _some_ thing’s just not right is not something a Slytherin needs to worry about.”

Even knowing it was a cover and distraction she had to take a deep breath at that special nugget, pinching the bridge of her nose, and bite back her first two replies. No, channelling Professor Snape was best in such cases, pained patience with a quiet, cold voice.

“Oh, really? Do excuse me but as far as I know, being a Slytherin’s not about being proud of it, or ignoring it, when there’s a big, stinkin’ pile of wrong, specially not when it’s bound to jump in your way sooner or later! Sure, it’s all ’bout the value of culture and tradition, fine, true enough, and it is damn well about having goals and ambitions, ’bout succeeding, being clever, yeah, using all the means you have available and choosing the most appropriate ones to get your shit done. But projecting plain, obvious dishonest and untrustworthy? Really? Just because that’s the reputation our house has to some, hypocritical assholes I might add, is no reason to act like a bunch of bloody bastards, as if we need to stoop that low to beat them all into the ground!”

Riko cut herself off before she could go further into full Amy-steam-train-mode. If he didn’t get that he’d never get anywhere until he could get people to trust his word and that treachery always came back to bite you in the ass then she really didn’t know, and she wasn’t going to tell him the sky was blue either, bloody shite, he was out of diapers long enough, and with his family, and.. gah! Raking her hands through her hair to stay more awake, she took care to speak even more quietly before Draco could use her descent into generic rambling to wave her arguments away.

“Listen, I get it with Flint and all, aright, he’s nuts about getting the quidditch cup, I heard he flat out refused taking his NEWTs last year, and I have eyes, and I know your father is glad for any fight to take to Dumbledore, and that’s all fine, but there’s consequences on this current route that would suck utterly and completely and that I’m sure you don’t really want..”

That at least got her some visible interest, of course, as soon as it was about him, gods and spirits, sometimes Riko really wanted to strangle him no matter how alright he chose to be most of the time. But it was a chance, good thing it was only his clique here right now.

“Firstly there is the matter of Hagrid. If this injury shit rolls through the gain of ‘look what I got done’ will be so much behind the cost it’s ridiculous. He’s a brilliant keeper of grounds and keys and if you think that’s easy you better think again, not even just about all the stuff he has to handle in the forest and all, he’s really reasonable and it’s not just the Hufflepuffs and mane-brains as get all sorts of ingredients from him, y’know..”

Apparently he hadn’t and Riko had to bite back an annoyed huff at how little Draco sometimes looked around himself. But saying so was of course not helpful, just now. Or ever, probably. Instead she nodded as if he’d just agreed, having already known that little bit.

“So, y’see, it won’t just be the other houses hating you for it, and not even just because of that, ’cause he’s easygoing and friendly and well-liked by just about everyone, specially if he let them get away with something or other, which is not exactly rare. And he really is a good teacher for Creature Care, usually, and that’s not just me saying it, ’cause we’re friendly, or what he showed me in the forest so far, even Goldstein and Mulciber in fifth sorta agreed on it..”

This time Riko did roll her eyes at his look because her overhearing things and sometimes mentioning them to, well, mostly Tony but often enough both of them, was not a new thing, and he hadn’t been sitting that far away from their group Saturday evening, and he knew perfectly well the common in-joke in the Lair, had teased her about it often enough himself, how she wasn’t so much absent all the time as simply invisible..

“Over the weekend, remember, when you were playing Shogi with Tony over there, and you know how those two are about him. And yes, it was past tense, but still, do you have any idea how lucky we are to have him for it? It’s near impossible to get a qualified teacher ’cause those that are good at it prefer to really work with the creatures ’cause it pays better and gives more recognition and is just plain more fun, and now with th’year already started..? With our luck we’d end up with some theory-obsessed dolt who teaches us by books only and everyone taking Creature Care will hate it and we won’t learn shit and then we’ll have to handle actual creatures for the OWLs and fail it all, that sounds really great.

Besides, I get you don’t like him and that’s fine, but if this.. Draco, he could easily end up in Azkaban again and he’d die there, he would, he was a wreck after.. Anyway, I get you don’t like him, nobody saying you have to, but that would go a bit far, yeah, and it’s not just ’bout Hagrid, either, I mean, do you really want Buckbeak to die over this? He didn’t even get you and you saw how awesome he is, would you really want him killed over this? Because that’s where this is headed, you know how Avery and Macknair always go on about that first-strike-and-down motto..”

Riko bit her lip then, had to, and raked her hand through her hair again because this was, sort of, a first. She usually avoided serious talk about serious matters with her housemates, even Tony and Draco. In the past it was them poking her about what they wanted to know and she could handle that well enough, but this was her wanting something, something important, that she had no real influence on, and she wasn’t, she couldn’t even be sure..

“Besides,” Riko started again, hating everything about it, “hippogriffs are really smart, bit alien but they’re not _that_ far behind griffins, and they hold grudges like you wouldn’t believe, all the books say so, so it wouldn’t just suck because Buckbeak is great, there’s a good chance neither of us could ever get close to a hippogriff again, or possibly even allies of theirs, that shit can spread, without getting mauled and just.. Hagrid did say to never insult one and I’m really sorry ’bout your elbow and I know.. I’m not expecting a miracle, Draco, but really, two deaths and all the fallout just because.. that’s just not ok, yeah?”

The silence after her uncharacteristic display of serious opinion, not to mention the uttering of an actual, serious request, was weird and tense and gloomy and it got more so by the second. Draco was biting his lip in thought and whatever he was thinking didn’t seem pleasant. His face took on a slightly trapped expression that made Riko feel sick. Tony beside her was tapping the table with a finger, brows drawn together.

“I don’t see why you’re so worried,” Vince spoke up, which fit neatly in the category of odd that seemed a theme today. “Hagrid is practically Dumbledore’s pet, there’s no way he’ll let him end in Azkaban, and who cares about an off chance of rabid beasts not liking you..”

“And there’s a reason that motto was adopted,” Greg added, because of course if Crabbe said something he’d too. “If a creature attacks a human once they will do it again afterwards, there’s all sorts of precedents, and it did get you right bad, I could see your bone, not pretty at all..”

He made a face and Riko did the same right back at him. “Thank you ever so much, I’ll have you know my bones are pretty as fuck-all _and_ I think I said quite clearly at the time it was not in fact as bad. For one, with a cut as deep as the bone not being able to use your arm would be the least problem, y’know, ruined tendons and spurting and all that fun..”

Now they were all looking at her oddly and for a moment Riko worried she’d have to argue the point, which would be a hassle because Goyle was actually right. And she couldn’t really assume Draco or Tony didn’t have a cueroscope themselves. But they stayed silent, so she was right and they had been too distracted by Draco, phew. She waved it away and got back to her point.

“Anyway, after the clusterfuck of last year it’s just not a good idea to make such a production of it, especially if we can already assume that Hagrid is safe, which I am not even really sure of, just look at last year. There’s making a point, alright, fine, but this wasn’t an attack that needs to be answered, it was a stupid accident, bad form, on _our_ end! There’s got to be a way to let it blow over quickly, get it dropped somewhere along the line?”

Draco leaned forward into participation mode with a resigned sigh, but he did. He also sent off Vingory with a casual “Take my books along if you go to our room,” which they rightly translated to “scram and take my stuff along.”

Tony was not as agreeable, but she waited for them to depart. “So what if Draco called it a brute,” she argued as soon as they were gone, “it’s true enough, and it had no business clawing you just because you got in the way. From the descriptions it should be fast enough to stop. And if that oaf’s supposed to be a professor then he should know that a single warning won’t suffice. I don’t see how he can be allowed to be a teacher, really, I have half a mind to talk to my uncles about it..”

Riko fought the urge to tear at her hair and set to work politely arguing Tony out of her spontaneous outbreak of stuffiness. They had never clashed the way Riko and Draco had, but that was mostly luck. Admittedly, two of Cera’s posse were mixed-blood and she was right friendly with them, specially Davis, but they were Slytherin and pretty good at it. Like her family, Cera was a big believer in ‘when in Rome’ as regards to muggleborns and their customs. In fact, Riko suspected the reason the Parkinson heir hardly used the word mudblood even in jest or for non-Slytherins was mostly because she considered it low-class. And that, in turn, was no doubt thanks to Lady Narcissa and Professor Snape being her spellparents; it was no secret they considered the word unfit for civilized company.

If left to her own devices, or rather her proud and ancient family, Riko knew Tony might easily turn into a bad copy of Lord Malfoy’s stuffy, xenophobic mother, which would be a bad loss and made it all the more regrettable this mess had happened so early in the year. Just a few weeks of Hogwarts time, without any relevant accidents of course, would’ve relaxed Tony’s views a lot, much as it was with her.. anyway.. It was quite some work to talk Cera down from her injured little brother crusade and most of it was to keep Riko’s own temper in check and hold back arguments that might trigger negative reactions.

It made her very glad she’d been sort-of writing with Hagrid over the summer. He’d taken his OWLs in Charms, Potions, and Transfigs, and his NEWTs in Creature Care, of course, Herbology, and, of all things, Astronomy. With this he fulfilled the official requirements, and of course he had years and years of experience handling everything in the Forbidden Forest and on the grounds, including the giant squid. Even Tony had to acknowledge those points but afterwards Riko was frazzled, grumpy, and exhausted. It made the results of the delayed discussion about how to let this matter blow over quickly all the more depressing, because of course the results sucked. Riko had known that, on some level, but that even the three of them together couldn’t come up with anything really worthwhile.. well, it sucked. Things had already been set in motion and like poking a stick into any sort of hive, the results couldn’t be stopped so much as contained.

The complaint about Hagrid was made and had to run its course, although at least there Draco and Tony could write some letters to hopefully make it easier for Dumbledore to defend his groundkeeper-slash-teacher. History showed he wasn’t all that good at that, although the situation was a bit different now that Hagrid had officially been cleared. Unfortunately even as a (not official) half-giant Hagrid had much better cards than Buckbeak. Just as with Hagrid, the complaint had been made, but while Hagrid was in the employ of the school, Buckbeak was not. Depending on different views he was a resident, or property, or possibly even a vagrant threat, and in any case it meant his complaint was sure to be passed on to the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, and from there it was all ministry procedures and just down hill.

In actuality Riko suspected that at least Tony might have some distant relatives she could poke about it, but it wasn’t worth bringing it up when her roommate didn’t. Draco didn’t either, so yeah. It was frustrating but Riko could actually understand it, on some level. If one of hers had got hurt then Riko wouldn’t be very keen to incur favours for the attacker, especially not from people she had no good, easy relation to. Didn’t change that is sucked, though, even more so because Draco wasn’t even really badly hurt. Still, nothing to do about it.

“Fine,” Riko sighed resignedly at length and leaned back to check her pocket watch. Still a good while before the library closed. “Think I should write your father again on it, too, yeah? Any hints on good approaches, I can make a mix-up draft and show you later?”

Draco shot her a strange look, mostly confusion, some exasperation, disbelief and, what.. was that envy? What the..?

“Whatever,” he shrugged after a moment of Riko staring back at him inquiringly. “He’s way more relaxed about you anyway. If anything we should do it the other way around, with how easy you two always agree.”

The sheer absurdity of this, by which she meant everything between his lines as well as the words, made Riko blink in utter confusion, probably look like a startled owl. Her eyes hurt and she was exhausted and this was simply beyond any semblance of sanity. Retreat a necessity.

“Right,” she said, evenly, slowly, full-on dry, sardonic Vi. “Or it might be because I don’t ask for anything that would be an inconvenience.. besides,” she winked, rallying, “he can just sit to the side when I go off to be impossible, advantages of my own fine family line..”

‘You’re his family, his child,’ Riko wanted to scream, among other things, wanted to shake him, no matter that she knew Draco was sometimes afraid of his father. Lord Malfoy loved his son at least as much as Lady Malfoy did, it was terribly obvious even if he showed it differently, and although she could in a way feel sympathy, sometimes, this.. this just.. There he was, developing envy of _her_ , when every visit to her spellfather left her drained and tense and he still had all his family, family who loved him, and she was regularly dreaming of the fucked up ways she’d lost her own, each single instance of her stupid fuck-ups and.. no, just no.

With a resolute breath she stood and ordered her books into stacks of take-along and back-to-room to gather some more control. Tony’s quiet, thoughtful regard and Draco’s casual, appeased “There’s that,” made it quick work before she announced a bright “Later then!” to flee the scene.

Her real dinner, in the den, after the usual wake-up routine of kicking and snarling, was very quiet. Riko didn’t feel like talking, maybe ever again, and Seiya either noticed or was of a similar mind-set. Not that he’d initiated any sort of conversation yet, so probably the latter. When Riko jerked awake later it was with an incoherent yell and into a violent outbreak of tears. Seiya came to with his usual snarl but all she could do was curl up and try to control her breathing, jaw clenched shut and eyes wide open to see what was there instead of..

“K’so-oh-chog-te-oh,” she ground out, voice shaky, heart hammering away enough to make her shake. Then she had to sniffle and then employ the edge of her sleeve because she definitely wasn’t up to navigating her pockets yet, fuck-it-all. “Merde alors verdammter Dreck chog-oh..”

A snuffling nose against her back interrupted her, probably a good thing, more input to ground herself in. Even so, some things just couldn’t be foregone. Riko rolled on her back but made sure to shield her face with her arm, nose just peaking out under her elbow as she inhaled the earthy smells and Seiya’s personal, pungent tang. Even the short blinking against her sleeve showed her flashes of glassy edges so she rubbed her eyes and sat up. Quickly drawing up the hood of her jacket she put her chin on her knees and carefully wrapped her arms around herself, hands crossed over her feet. Fucking cold. Time to get her tekkou out again, she could anchor some warming charms in them, just had to get a handle on this..

“Aright? Sorry ’bout that, really, but it’s aright, yeah? Gonna let you get some undisturbed sleep now, I’ll drop by for th’basket, yeah..”

Riko bit down on the sharp laugh that wanted to escape, ignored echoes of _basket-case_ ringing from the clearly hysterical back of her mind, and slipped into the shadows. She made it about halfway to the edge of the forest before she really _had_ to become corporeal again, and she regretted it, everything really, as she clutched rough bark and tried not to puke. She made a stop in a bathroom before getting back to the lair. Back there it was straight into her bed with the grim satisfaction that at least she didn’t have to Silencio herself. She had until Amy’s birthday to find a better solution, which was really the main reason she didn’t take any books to the den but stayed between the dusty shelves of the library.

There was lots to look up before she could even be sure of a list of useful books, and as she really had to avoid getting caught taking them out was.. risky. When light started crawling up the sky outside, Riko had a few hours of very economical nodding off under her belt, or hood, whatever. She went to retrieve the empty basket and managed to stay collected and sane through all her lessons of the day. It was something to be proud of, really, as today included Potion and Transfigs with Amy, still trying to hunt down Riko with murder in her eyes, very grouchy versions of McGonagall and Professor Snape, and Edie being very obvious about coldly ignoring her.

Of course she brought a fresh basket out to the den but she retreated without waking Seiya. It was just obvious he still needed rest. With Tuesday a house day and Astronomy round midnight – with Hufflepuff, thank all the stars and shades – there was really no point in sneaking out, and the three new subjects on top of the old ones did bring in quite a lot of homework. Riko managed to doze quite peacefully in her dorm and felt almost fresh for the lesson, that Furin really was great.

As she partnered with Vi to note the mechanics of the moon in Gemini, silent but the closest to relaxed she’d been all day, Riko dared to hope and vaguely plan for things to work out in just a little more time. Despite those good intentions though, she fell into a depressing, unpleasant routine. Research during the nights, sleeping only in short intervals, managing her student persona during the day, her still badly-off komainu’s recovery and his weirdness, housemates, homework.. There was just too much to do, really, and it was just the start of the year.

She managed to visit Hagrid but he was quiet and distracted and Riko had the feeling it wasn’t even just the trouble with the school governors. Well, small wonder, ground keeping was no easy task, he’d never really worked as a teacher before, and the calamity in his first lesson had leached all the confidence from him. And he didn’t even have an apprentice to help him out with all the work.

With all of this frustrating nonsense, because of course in all the written drivel about dementors and their long history as agents of the Ministry’s justice and such there was absolutely NO helpful, relevant info that was really about _them_ or their _exact_ effects, and with Amy continuing to hound her, and evidently hardly more than an hour of continued sleep possible, and Edie staring at her like _that_ , and Lupin continuing his routine of understated, wary smarminess.. things just didn’t work out. Riko was just in no frame of mind to describe herself as calmed down enough to handle any sort of talk with Edie, or Amy, even if an opportune moment had come along. Not that it did, of course, but, well, what else was new, in this idiocy-ridden and probably accursed castle..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> err, yes, in case I hadn´t mentioned this before, and in case of it being not clear for which I then apologize, Seiya IS talking, just not word-talking. *shrugs*  
> also: yes, Riko, surely Tony is only upset about Draco being attacked. Of course. I would suggest you take a nap, to better recall the end of last year, maybe, among other things, but..*squints at dementor the ridden madhouse the kids find themselves in* *sighs*


	11. ..Except Into Crooked Corners

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> and I repeat: Yes, everyone is, and is /going/ to be, very sane and not at all subjective, most certainly not influenced by any dementor effects, or anything else, mhm. No need to worry about anyone jumping to any conclusion or.. yeah.. /sigh/.. this year is gonna be just great...=P  
> Yes, the first full moon in the new, fucked-up setup is going to go just swell. yeah. uh.. no.

To say that Edie was upset would have been like saying dragon fire was a bit warm or dementors weren’t very good company. It ebbed and rose, of course, but all in all she felt much like an autoclave with a damaged valve, just ready to explode right out of her skin. It was unprecedented and exhausting, and of course it was Riko’s fault.

Admittedly, everyone and everything else was also trying to drive her insane, but Edie was sure that none of it, not her waking up every other night with dreams she didn’t care to remember, not Professor Snape’s cold treatment, not Professor Lupin’s polite, distanced (never-ending and thus quite frankly creepy) scrutiny, none of the million other variable annoyances, would have been quite as bad if she didn’t have to fight the urge to scream at and strangle Riko whenever she was around. Sometimes even when she wasn’t. And it would be only warranted, anyway. Edie was not someone to get upset, usually, and it was something she was rather proud of. If something upsetting happened then, Edie was proud to say, she would look at it rationally, draw conclusions, and act upon them. Trust Riko to foul that up, and so spectacularly too.

“You know she didn’t mean it like that,” Vi had said about that barbed, poisoned spear-tip of an insult, an insult Edie’d always dreaded and at the same time never expected. She had never asked for any help from them, ever! She wanted to strangle Vi for that, too, but then couldn’t. “None of us would ever see it like that, and you know Riko doesn’t,” Vi added, and she so clearly meant it that, no matter if she was right or not about Riko, Edie couldn’t fault her friend for, essentially, being her friend, and sane. Well, maybe for the latter she could.

It’d be wrong, of course, and made her feel even worse (beyond it already driving her mad that she couldn’t seem to just calm down already) but she could. Because it was just so damn irritating, no matter how right Vi was, that the Hufflepuff managed to maintain her calm like that, not even sarcastic or caustic even while discussing Riko and her insane, ridiculous everything!

“Waiting for the opportune moment, again,” Vi had told them, bone-dry and with a tired sigh, but she also pointed out that it was not really wrong, not entirely. “You’d just explode all over each other, like badly mixed half-decks of Exploding Snap,” she said in that resigned tone of hers.

It left Edie wanting to gnaw the table apart, but that didn’t exactly let her argue that point, curse it all. She really didn’t know how Vi managed it, constantly staying calm and by her side and tolerating her moodiness, and Amy’s huffs and questions, and the entirety of Riko’s insanity. Because of course Vi was still interacting with Riko. And while Edie had to grit her teeth to not growl or yell at her so-called friend, Amy was all set to hunt their insane Slytherin down, to make her answer her every question and demand explanations about her story and miserable manners and the entire Buckbeak case. Didn’t work, that, not with Riko clearly set to use every talent in her repertoire to avoid them all completely, so Vi had to take the brunt of questioning.

It was simply insane, both of them, and everything about it, but Edie kept her mouth shut, even if it made her temper that much harder to handle. She asked Vi about it that first Wednesday, carefully neutral, but Vi caught her meaning all too well. Or maybe Edie was imagining things, the usually so unflappable Hufflepuff had looked positively harassed for her own standards when they’d met in the library first period, not being doomed to trudge out into the cold for Creature Care.

But, “Yeah, we partnered last night, too,” Vi said, and nothing about Professor Sinistra not fond of people switching partners. That was quite clearly to make a point, Edie had some experience translating unsaids by now, especially with her friends.

“I’m not just letting her off,” Vi added then, in that dry, level way that suggested it was an explanation for Edie’s benefit, which always served to piss her off even more. Well, lately. Which was probably unfair as Vi was clearly doing it because she wanted Edie to know, wanted to make sure Edie understood, because Edie was worth explaining to, but, well.

“We got unsolved stuff between us but that doesn’t mean we can’t work together or get along,” Vi said in that reasonable tone she had when something was just obvious for her and that was that. Even after Vi added with a friendly wink, “and note with whom I am spending the time when I am not in class with her,” they were very quiet, up until Vi left for Astronomy in fact. Edie headed for Charms and spent far too much time on ignoring just how disturbingly similar Slytherin and Hufflepuff sometimes were. Amy sat beside her, tense and quiet, which left Edie alone with her thoughts constantly trying to stray away from the next stage of shrinking charms. Vi sat with her in Arithmancy again and she even got a chance to talk a bit with Amy in Astronomy, which helped blanking out the History of Magic lesson before that.

Binn’s lesson was paired with Slytherin, and ignoring the way they’d usually spend it was already hard enough, without Riko apparently absent. She wasn’t, of course, just Obscured again, but it cost Edie two dates and three names she had to copy from Turpin, and quite some effort, which left an unpleasant tingling behind her eyes, to find her. In other news, Riko looked like crap. She was writing intently on a scroll in a way that made clear she was not taking note of Binns _or_ his subject at all, maybe Transfigs homework, from her grim expression, until about fifteen minutes before end-of-lesson. Then she just laid her head on her crossed arms to nap on her table, completely ignoring Edie the entire time, damn her.

Edie hadn’t paid attention to her after that, either, or at last tried not to. It worked about as well as ignoring Professor Lupin (who would probably give her the creeps on pure, aggravating, creature-level instinct, even if he weren’t alway _watching_ her like that) which meant she was not going to stop working on it, no matter how busy she was otherwise. Another week passed and nothing much changed. The teachers insisted on drowning them in homework, so much so that Amy, who had it worst of course, didn’t even really argue, not even by normal-person standards, when Vi told her to just leave off hounding Riko because it was pointless. It made Edie roll her eyes, but she couldn’t really fault Vi’s points, and Amy had started looking about to explode in hopes of getting more pieces of herself to finish her work.

Edie clung to the naive hope Amy’s birthday on Sunday might mark a change in all this unpleasantness, she’d even managed to convince herself to calm down a little with the idea, it was almost nice. She didn’t even pay extra attention to Riko disappearing into thin air as soon as the foremost gaggle of Slytherins, hmf, a quiver then, eh, bloody snakes, reached the Entrance Hall after Thursday’s Herbology. She’d sort of got used to Riko being Obscured all the time, Edie had the habit too after all, if not as excessive, and of course none of them were mad enough to do it outside the castle with those horrible dementors about, even if they were to stay at the gates.

Safely obscured herself, Edie headed down the corridors to her personal favourite way to the library, by way of the Hufflepuff-side dungeons. It was a shortcut that nobody would ever believe, and she could bring up some treats for Vi and Amy from the kitchens. Then she heard raised voices up ahead, not far from their favourite exit, and only moments later had to flatten herself against the wall or be trampled by a group of lower-years, mostly firsties. They were quiet, though clearly upset, which made her continue, of course.

“..ke-hunting,” was the first she overheard, or rather could understand, with how sound carried in the corridors, especially high, young voices, and sniffling.

“I see,” she heard Riko say and even with the echoes Edie recognized that tone of voice: precise, forced calm, analytical and very bad news.

“ _Did you or the others talk to Racer or Selwyn? Keep still while I remove that, hm?_ ” she heard Riko continue ( _in German? What?_ ) and Edie felt her eyebrows crawl up, probably all the way to the hairline, as she took care to move quietly, to hear it all.

“ _Why not? ..Never mind, you should, really, it’s their job. But it’s your call, of course. It was a good thought but splitting up is obviously not ideal, huh, so let’s see how far I can get you before dinner on my recommended strategies. Good thing you firsties can’t get on the quidditch team yet, duelling practise is Tuesday and Thursday, so go there. Now, do you have a replacement for that? I’m not sure I can fix it, much less for tomorrow, better ask one of the.._ ”

“I’ll ask Gw.. Baskerville,” the little girl answered quickly, adding “No problem, really,” in a tone that told even Edie that it really was.

“ _Hm, Zabini and Selwyn did tell you we’re still going for that house cup, yeah? Keep in mind the weighted flow from the top, in this school, and don’t be too proud to ask either of them before you lose us points_ ,” Edie heard Riko say, in a disturbingly light, warmly teasing voice.

Even more disturbing was the silence afterwards. The younger girl nodded and bit her lips, but when Riko put a hand on her shoulder and moved them towards the stairs to the dungeons the kid came along with obvious relief. In Edie’s general direction, and of course, because Riko and because the entire world had recently decided to hate Edie, her.. insane Slytherin just had to look up before they rounded the corner to the narrow, winding staircase, right at her.

And that was really the disturbing cherry on top of the cream of wrong on the enormous cake of insane this year had been so far. Edie couldn’t read anything at all on her.. on Riko’s face, it was completely closed off, almost reminding her of Snape of all things, still and inscrutable and flat and not like Riko at all, not in forever. Fuck, the Slytherin hadn’t even looked at the Duck Squad like that, not even after the attack on Amy.

It didn’t even stop there, either, because Riko simply took note of her standing there (and she _did_ , Edie was tracking her eyes) and then completed that turn to the stairs and was gone. Not even a nod, no acknowledgement at all, although she’d clearly seen through Edie’s Obscurantis. Yet another thing to drive her mad, and of course it was yet again Riko’s fault, at least in some way. Edie wasn’t as far gone as to unreasonably blame Riko for the entirety of whatever exactly she’d missed in that stupid corridor, even if she really wanted to. But it was Riko who’d been all weird afterwards, ignoring her, and dragging that girl off, guarding whatever she had in her other hand with her body, and leaving Edie to wonder and poke at unpleasant theories.

The rest of her day was ruined, of course, and not just because she had lost all motivation to head to the kitchens. She didn’t sleep much and badly to boot because there were only so many ways you could interpret what she’d seen, and if you started to dig further, into what had been _said_.. it was like looking into a snake-pit until it stared back right into you or somesuch, and every single facet of the distorted mess kept pissing her off.

But they had Binns first thing in the morning. Perfect opportunity in all ways, or at least best possible under the current circumstances. Too bad she didn’t have that neat map of the Weasley Twins, although Edie suspected in that case Riko would simply hide out in the Slytherin Lair, and really, that name already said quite a lot didn’t it. Anyway, history was better than Arithmancy where Amy and Vi might interfere somehow.

“Hey,” Edie said, after clearing her throat only resulted in Riko freezing like a startled animal, and _that_ after Riko had just plain ignored her as she went up to her, as if there would be any other reason for Edie to stop at that table, the one right at the front but closest by the door, as if Edie couldn’t look through Obscurantis, too, even if she didn’t do as well as Vi or Riko, the damn cheater with her.. anyway. At least Riko was looking at her now, even if her face was all blank and cool, her look focusing on Edie with a clinical air, as if she had to drag it back from boring into her skull, her brain, back up to her face. Edie fought down the urge to fidget but the flat look from those blue eyes and the silence had her bite her lip nervously. It was all wrong and weird, as was the stillness, Riko was not supposed to be like that, as if..

“Is this seat taken?” Edie asked, mostly to stop herself from freaking out completely, and also to stop, end, and avoid their weird round of staring.

She’d tried to sound calm and polite, wanted to start on a rational note, but Edie knew she’d come came across as weird when Riko only blinked. Currents of wariness were visible under her mask, at least to Edie, and it stung, Riko tilting her head lightly, as if to better watch her, figure her out.

“Yes, I’m keeping it for a housemate,” she answered.

Edie raised her chin and felt immediately less nervous and more insulted at the lack of apology. Not by look or tone, which was distant and quiet, and _that_ was yet another insult all in itself, after Edie had already made the first step! But then, maybe Riko really was waiting for a housemate, and she did look rather bad, pale and circles under her eyes, downright sickly. A lot like end of last year, now that she got a close look. Edie sighed inwardly as habit called up worry and responsibility.

“Well, maybe we could talk? Or, err, compare notes.. later..” Edie offered, watching Riko intently now, fighting down the urge to ask what was wrong.

Again, Riko’s face turned wary for a moment, then flat. But this time her eyes remained tense and her look was actually cold. “No, thank you,” she said, voice as distanced as her look, “Good of you to ask, but it’s not necessary, really, us snakes can take care of our own matters.”

And that.. hah, so much for that, then, eh, Vi, so much for that. It was like having the ground yanked out from under her, yet _again_ , was a slap Edie did _not_ need to take, calmly or otherwise.

“Fine,” she said, took another breath and reminded herself of the location and that strangling a classmate was considered poor form. “Fine, that’s.. that’s good, really.”

She didn’t scream, or even say any of what she could’ve said, not ‘I’m sure that’s good for not having it thrown in your face later’, not ‘Good if you’re lucky enough to delude yourself like that’, not a single damn one of the thousands of things wrong with Riko to let her say this.

“If you don’t mind,” someone, Parkinson, that steel-sheet harpy, said at her elbow and Edie jerked, collected herself, ignored the Slytherin’s dig about murder by looks, and walked to the opposite end of the classroom. She did not have to take this shit, and she wouldn’t, fuck all of this.

*

Tony, or maybe Cera, Riko wasn’t quite sure, waited at least five minutes before speaking, at least five minutes or millennia in which Riko could not cuss her own stupid tongue off or bash her head against the table. It sucked, especially because the only reason Riko had bothered to actually show to Binn’s stupid, monotonous rambling was so she could either catch some actual sleep if sitting alone or finish her Transfigs homework. And then, when she did, very quietly, it was one of those cases when those two sides of her roommate were overlapping to an almost scary degree.

“Oi, alright then?” she asked, so quietly Riko knew there was no overhearing it, and it just had to be that, of all possible questions or even comments, right down to the Oi.

Riko clenched her jaw and nodded. “Eh..” she added, and, once she realized that still wasn’t an acceptable answer to the friendly serpent beside her, “Yeah, ’m a’right, f’course I’m alright, just.. just failed spectacularly. No big deal now, ’less I want t’add some more to th’list.”

She shrugged and took her stupid Transfigs homework out, set to finishing what was, admittedly, more of a defence of the common hedgehog than a discussion of the theoretical principles involved in turning it into a pincushion. Which still hardly any of their class had managed properly, so Riko didn’t really feel that bad about it, it was a stupid assignment anyway, as proven by her essay.

“Hm,” Tony said, dry tolerance in her tone, and then, upon eyeing the open scroll, with treacle-sweet, fake-innocent amusement teasing in her eyes, “You’re welcome to ask help when the Tartan has you write it again.” Letting her off the hook, at least for now.

“Ta, Tony,” Riko said, drily but she meant it, so much that she couldn’t stop herself from throwing her neighbour a grateful, if small, smile.

“Eh,” Tony said, fidgeting with her own scroll of notes, “Can you even afford to ignore him like that? Your hundred inches are about done, I hear?”

“Mhm,” Riko smiled over fondly with only her eyes and Tony looked down again. A very fetching blush was sneaking over her cheekbones before it was quickly hidden by the sides of her dark bob. Despite the temptation Riko looked down, too. Only good manners, after all, even if Tony’s inability to deal with real gratitude when she was being nice was endlessly adorable. “No worries, our deal’s solid and safe, I got it covered,” She said to her own scroll, licked the nib of the quill to activate the self-inking charm (actual feather, just for that). “Next week’s essay is still covered anyway, so, yeah, officially free to not give a single, frozen fuck..”

Tony responded only with a distracted sort of ‘hm’, which was good since Riko was mentally elsewhere herself. She was glad that from the look of it she’d have time to come up with a decent explanation for this tragic fail to handle Edie until tomorrow evening, maybe even til Sunday. Besides, Transfigs now.

Transfigs, it turned out, was horrible, with McGonagall seemingly set to keep looking down her sharp nose at her the entire lesson, just because she’d left the Obscurantis on a bit too long and almost missed speaking up at the roll call. Ugh. The head of Gryffindor also collected her essay last, and from the sharp line between her brows as she looked it over Tony had been quite right with her comment. Just fucking fantastic. After this miserable proof that sometimes it was clearly better to stay in bed entirely, it was a relief to slip away under an Obscurantis after the lesson and visit the kitchen. Finny didn’t look happy but she already had a basket ready so clearly she didn’t really mind. It was only smart, really: after last period Riko would have to take a short dive in the library, and she didn’t want to carry the food and books at the same time, right? Right.

Seiya was up already, which would usually have been good, but he was also moody and grumpy. They usually didn’t talk beyond casual comments, and about eighty percent of those were from Riko. She’d got used to it and also that his were mostly expressions of paranoia. Still, she wasn’t in the mood to ignore him grumbling into his non-existent beard, ’cause a mane, no matter how much of a mess, is not a beard, yeah, anyway, him grumbling some nonsense about not being a pet just because she said she’d be back later and had only come to deliver the basket.

“Y’know what, if you resent my delivery service so much you could at least say it properly and to my face,” she said, already annoyed and, alright, maybe glad for a setting where she didn’t have to guard her tongue quite as much. “Even if I understand you. It’s just common courtesy.”

She didn’t expect much of a reaction, a huff of some sort would’ve been in character. It was to let off some steam and maybe a bit of a warning of her temper being foul enough already, thank you very much. Instead he stared at her, with that small, confused tilt to his head, that same slightly perplexed way as when she’d named him, and then he asked what she meant. It had her sit down, that, because, really, how could he not know..? It all but broke her brain and manners, but of course she couldn’t ask him that back, not under the sort of circumstances that had apparently led to him not knowing, actually not knowing.. No way, not on, even if he’d answer, which he of course wouldn’t. Heck, she wouldn’t either if tables were turned, fucking shite..

Riko was still trying to account for what could have happened to him, just what sort of situation he was in, when, apparently encouraged by something, she had no clue what, she was just gaping she was sure, he asked how she understood him anyway. He’d been wondering about it a while, he said. She gaped at him a bit more, well, stared, her mouth was closed, but, really, just.. what.

“You’re actually serious,” she managed after a few blinks that still had him looking at her like that. Which, alright, not the best thing to say. Wow, first Edie and now this, clearly she was on a roll and should just not talk to anyone again, ever. Hah, if only that were possible..

“Err, sorry, really,” Riko added hastily, glad his only reaction was one of his odd, layered huffs and paranoid tense-ups as he looked away to the side. “Well, what I meant was that just like any, well, most magical creatures you could just have me understand. Not sure exactly how that works, I think it’s something about clear intent? At least Kumo.. ah, another komainu said so, so it should work well enough for you.”

She was watching Seiya carefully, her hands flat on the ground. He didn’t show any reaction, didn’t relax but also didn’t tense up further. At the pause he looked again at her in that wary, slightly nonplussed way. Of course his reply and question wasn’t spoken, and neither did it make any further sense. This time Riko didn’t react further than to blink once, because just.. no. Maybe her brain had shut down.

“Dude, you so are. Seriously. I may suck at healing but I know a komainu from a garden variety dog any bloody day. Fuck, I know a komainu when I _see_ one, much less when I check his.. er, status. Chill, s’no big deal. I know a pack off Hokkaido, so, really, it’s a’right.. ’aright?”

The answering huff was not exactly reassuring, but his reply was calm enough, if not completely satisfying. All dry and sardonic, as close to normal as he ever got really.

Riko sighed tiredly, then rallied herself. “Well, er, no offence but your, ah, tail is a bit.. bent? I mean, no big deal, yeah, but that’d explain it, heck, at a distance even Hagrid might take ye for a padfoot, or a shisa, and he knows his hounds, creatures in general, really.. Er, y’aright then? Only, I need to get back in time? I’ll be back later, a’right?”

He rumbled a distracted farewell, didn’t move at all, though, and small wonder. Riko’d bet her Gringotts key he wanted some time to regroup as much as she. Because hadn’t Hagrid mentioned a padfoot once, and Seiya’d been out and about, she knew, and was still fine, well, no worse and..

The best she could do, Riko decided as she pulled her robe from her bag and over her head before catching a potato off the Slytherin table en route to Potions, was to put it away into another mental strongbox. Otherwise she’d go mad trying to figure him out, and that’d help exactly no one. As it was she had to evade a resurgence of bloodhound-Amy, and afterwards, in Charms, Vi was harassed and quiet for almost half the lesson.

“Do I even want to know?” the Hufflepuff asked at length, pained, as if Riko had done her disservice by being quiet, when evidence suggested the exact opposite.

The upside was, there was no reason now to not put her face into her arms and just rest face-down on the table. The downside was that Vi would of course not give up, wouldn’t stop from poking you in the side in fact, and so Riko told her. She prefaced her only slightly edited tale (no reason to talk Slytherin business with Vi after all) with “I’m an idiot.” and Vi didn’t argue. She also didn’t argue if Riko really hadn’t meant it and it was the sort of not arguing that understood rather than doubted, so, there was that.

It was perhaps cynical to think so, but at least that was the worst of it: Vi was disappointed and stressed, and the mess with Edie was clearly blown to hell for the next few hundred years or so, but that was it. And there was no changing it now, so away into another strongbox with it. Amy was bound to calm down again simply by being so distracted with coursework, experience said so, and Riko had at least another day to deal with Tony, so, small favours. Back in the Den, Seiya was quiet and obliging in a way that reminded her of Vi when she was thrown by something, most often something nice.

It was odd, a bit, but then, there had been other instances of resemblance, or maybe she was just projecting. It was nice, and after the day she’d had Riko wasn’t going to look a gift horse – or a break and chance to catch some shut-eye in a safe place – in the mouth.

This time, when she jerked up from yet another stupid fucking dream it was not to a snarl but to a rumble that was almost as apologetic as it was wary. What..? She smelled ozone, just a little, and then Seiya licked his paw and only then did his comment make sense and, stars and shadows..

“Oh, bloody shite, I’m so sorry, Loki’s tits, that.. oh, fuck, I’ll.. I gotta find a way to stop that, I mean, I’m not usually doing that, really, are you.. are you alright, k’sotarre, I can..”

A huff and a nudge with his tail made her shut up. Then he just laid back and yeah, maybe a small bite wouldn’t hurt. Raiding the basket helped enormously, even cold the battered fish was great, not soggy at all and as close to tempura as you could get here. Seiya was quiet, eyes closed, but Riko knew the difference between sleep and discreet courtesy, thank you very much, and she was grateful, yes, but, well, she really was grateful.

“Won’t happen again,” she started, because that to be made clear. Fuck, after Sunday she’d have to cast nightly Silencio on herself after all, and it still wouldn’t be enough if she couldn’t stop this sort of thing. She could, though, she’d learned it before, time to refresh, obviously.

“Anyway,” she hurried on, “How I can understand you is pretty similar to how you can understand me, I guess. Which is why I thought you knew the flip side, too. Ah, which I don’t, of course. I mean, I’d have to actively use magic to make you understand me but I don’t obviously, ’cause you understand what I say already, regardless of language even, which just proves that point. I mean.. alright, let’s start with mahouki, alright?”

Seiya, who had looked increasingly confused at her, hah, alright, incoherent rambling, let out an overly relieved, amused huff and Riko couldn’t stop herself. She made a face at him. It was nice, of course, and a bit funny, but at the same time there was little to be relieved about if he was relying on her of all people to explain komainu things to him, specifically how to be one, because, well, obviously she wasn’t one. He huffed again, more impatient but also more awake, aware, _and_ alright than she’d seen him yet. Riko pushed her worries away for the moment and started on explaining mahouki. That wasn’t hard at least, and going from there she tried to recall everything Mum or Kuromaru and his folks or even Eliria or Shizuka had ever said on the matter, and it wouldn’t be that different from Deceivre, would it..?

Riko still hated this year and everything about it with a passion, but keeping busy helped and, gods and spirits, was she busy. And the thing about that was that even if some projects were stubbornly stuck, others did show progress, and progress was always good, as long as you didn’t stop to think too much on the things that were stuck, but, yeah, busy. So the weather still sucked, Riko wasn’t even sure she remembered what blue sky actually looked like, but it took the firsties less than a fortnight to get their notice-me-not charms right, and Seiya less than a week to actually use his words, well, in a way, but, yeah, that was great. The small celebration of the autumn equinox in the Lair was subdued, as was reportedly the bigger do in Hufflepuff, but Riko didn’t mind, found it restful enough to lurk around for it.

Lupin was still a sleazy, staring nuisance but the Case of the Kappa, as Tony took to calling it, was a thing of beauty and actually had him shut up, if only the once. Edie and Amy’s ignoring of her turned, so to speak, professional, and it hurt, as Eliria-sensei would say, like a cast-iron stab to the guts, every single time, but as crabby as Riko knew she was, well, could be worse, right? She still hadn’t managed to sleep through even one night, but her Silencios held, and with the mental structure building of this summer she got the zapping under control again, easy enough. It was the principle of it, right, was what it was, ’cause Riko refused to be brought low by dreams of shit she had already dealt with, thank you very much, she would not lose her marbles over matters already resolved, not again, just, no.

If anything, last year had shown that was a bad idea. So what if she had some stupid dreams, not like they were of anything new. Not like she didn’t already know the shock and terror of that night, when she’d woken to almost getting crushed by burning, splintered beams and roof tiles. Or the utter chaos that followed. Or the panic, after, when that warmth and safety and lightning of everything _M_ _a_ was just suddenly gone. The confusion of it, too, one moment cocooned and distanced, sheltered and empowered, avenged and avenging, all that power burning in and around her, and then, suddenly alone, cold and shaking, in a freaking thunderstorm, torrents of rain hitting her from all sides, rebounding from the hard, sharp-edged glassy ground under her bare knees and hands. The desolation, spreading like blood in water, colouring everything.

She could put it all back in its strongbox as often as she wanted, it came out again and again, dragging up and along yet another little facet every time, as if to mock her. And that was only that one, not like she had only the one instance, freeze it to all the hells. But, well, at least she hardly had any combinations, not like last year, that was something. One night – one theme, seemed to be the rule of thumb and, well, she did get some sleep, not like end of last year.

So, yes, it was exhausting, but Riko could handle it. End of last year had only turned into such a mess because she hadn’t slept, right, so even if she slept less, and not exactly good, it worked. She got her homework done, and if her research was close to stagnation and she still had no word from Fhuuzhako, well, at least she didn’t seem to be on anyone’s radar, least not actively, and Seiya was good company, sometimes his comments were even helpful. It worked.

*

Her waiting for sense to return to her friends became a maddening sort of routine over the days, then weeks. Amy had more classes and homework than she could shake a literal stick at, and failed to make any headway with her other problems. For one, there was of course Riko, who continued to evade her, and apparently the others too, looking increasingly worn as the time passed. Then there was the matter with Hagrid and Buckbeak and the allegedly unprovoked attack.

Draco hadn’t come back to class until Monday’s Potions lesson. He’d entered well past starting time, of course completely tolerated by Professor Snape, and then proceeded to be a giant git. He just couldn’t properly bend his arm, and it still hurt so terribly, but he wasn’t going to make any trouble, oh no, of course not.Yeah right, as Vi would say, in that special, dust-dry tone of hers. He was obviously acting, and doing it badly, and taunting Harry and Ron about it, and about Hagrid, and then about Black, trying to get Harry to go _look_ for him, that git, and making Professor Snape order them to cut things for him, and Amy just wanted to sock him one, properly and right on the inbred jaw! And Riko didn’t say or do a damn thing about it! She didn’t even look over at the spectacle! Honestly, most of the time Amy wasn’t even sure Riko was there at all, she seemed to use her Obscurantis or other tricks all the time, even during class!

Hagrid was looking terribly worried all the time and had no time to be visited because he still had to do his groundkeeping duties on top of being a teacher. Amy couldn’t help but worry about him being in trouble again but not telling them, just like last year, and Care of Magical Creatures had become terribly boring after their first lesson. To show his understanding of “th’ dangers of Caring for Creatures, properly” and “teach them proper responsibility” he had given each student a Flobberworm to care for over the rest of the year, and took up all their lesson time with them, and all the creatures they were supposed to learn about were only to be read on and written about in essays that he took forever to correct and return.

Amy grew to seriously dislike the very idea of _proper_ , and not even she managed to be interested in the worms for more than one lesson. Yes, they ate and secreted from both worm-ends, which was different, but they only ate boring vegetables, didn’t even have teeth, and even their two uses for Potions, mucus and sweat, were boring, general purpose things you’d want to replace with better substitutes anyway, if you really wanted to make a good potion. Even stressed out as she was, with all these new lessons, Amy found herself repeatedly and brain-blockingly bored at the worst of times. Unlike previous years when there’d been exploring and the fun of training languages and wandless tricks and duelling and self-defense, Amy now seemed to spend all her time studying. And it wasn’t that she didn’t like studying, but it was all so crammed, with all the deadlines constantly hounding her and keeping her from really losing herself in the subjects.

At least she made sure to study with her friends. Those who weren’t pretending to be a ghost at any rate. Or constantly screaming about Crookshanks being a spawn of evil or whatever, just because he was hunting like a cat does. Or being quiet about said screaming and generally distracted. But with all her courses she had of course loads more homework than her friends, even with how fast she was going. It meant more time spent in the library until even Edie and Vi got twitchy, and then in their room, where Edie and Vi could at least train, and after that quite often in the common room or, more often, her bed. There was a reason she was ignoring the house-days principle, and it wasn’t just Ron being a prat about Crookshanks or Harry’s collaborating by ignoring it. Amy wasn’t sure if it had always been like that and she’d just never realized, but it was so bloody _loud_ all the time in the common room, and people were constantly irritated about something or other, and just.. honestly, how did any of them get _anything_ done at all?

Her birthday completely snuck up on her, but then, Amy didn’t feel like celebrating. As busy as she was, she _had_ noticed how Edie wasn’t looking much better than Riko these days, even with the moon still far from full, and jumping at small noises or shadows. Vi seemed alright, unless you paid attention to how increasingly worn and tense she always was, and Amy had twice run into her while she was de-jinxing herself. Of course Vi hadn’t said anything, but Amy just knew that stupid, damn bully Fina was up to her old tricks again.

They’d had hardly any trouble with the Duck Squad last year. Well, small wonder, with all the school-wide hubbub and threat of a monster attacking students, or Hogwarts being closed, or some bunch of Ministry assholes deciding to incarcerate Hagrid without any actual evidence! And apparently it had been Fina’s OWL year. And now Vi was back to being harassed and not telling, ugh! So, no, Amy hadn’t felt like celebrating, bloody goodness, she didn’t have the time for it, either, she had to read up on the records of early muggle customs and compare them to the book she’d let her parents send to Edie’s parents so they could send it to her via Flynn, their large, dark-feathered family owl.

Honestly, she really should’ve got an owl; but on the other hand, she couldn’t imagine not having Crookshanks around. His purring was like a special sort of motor that produced a secret calming agent, he was like a soft, heavy warming pillow when he curled up against her side or on her leg or on her back while she was trying to finish that last bit of homework, and when she woke up at night sometimes, heart pounding but no memory of her dreams, the idea of just going back to sleep without him meowing and demanding pets before he purred again was plain absurd.

Her birthday also brought out sharply the glaring, Riko-shaped hole, which was perhaps the reason, or certainly at least one reason, it turned out so glum. It was hardly any different from any other day spent holed up in their room, but that was good enough for her, fitting even. The weather was terrible, it was a wonder the cake from Edie’s parents hadn’t arrived all soggy, Flynn had certainly looked half-drowned. Edie had made her an mc of the new Fiddlers Green CD that had come out over the summer, and two neat hawk quills to put into Vi’s gift, a carved wooden owl. You screwed off it’s head to use it as an inkwell, and the body could store feathers and pencils.

When the mc had run through Amy didn’t activate it again, she put the marble in her pocket. She knew Edie had also made one for Riko’s birthday, and she knew Edie still had it because she was Edie. Riko had been looking forward like mad to the new CD, at least as much as Amy had. When it was nearing lights-out and she had to return to the tower, Amy let Crookshanks ride on her shoulder despite his massive weight, because he was just so warm and soft and the weather had only gotten worse. Honestly, so far the light grey sky of that Hippogriff lesson had been the best weather all year, it was disgusting. When she curled up in bed after finally finishing her homework it was again past midnight, and Amy stared absently at the charmed furin that some bird had stealthily delivered while she was out. The attached note had been very to the point, which was strange for Riko.

 _Happy Birthday_ , it’d said, and, _the drawing on the tanzaku paper lets you regulate the light_.

It did; on the side that didn’t have a string of beautiful kanji drawn on it there was a little circle with a swirl in it. It had wriggled and followed her finger as she’d drawn it upwards, towards the bowled brass wind bell, which was worked to give the impression of curled-up, maned hound. It glowed in a warm, friendly yellow, like a little sun. Amy had fixed it to hang over her pillow, drawn her curtains, and been very glad to finish her work like that, Crookshanks purring contentedly beside her. Now she was looking at it, sighing moodily until she got a nudge from a round, squashed-looking head and had to rub that spot behind his ear to get him to started purring again.

Strange as it was, as time passed Amy sometimes found herself accepting pieces of Riko’s tale without noticing right away. It felt bad, still, all of it, just wrong, but she really didn’t need to be Edie to know Riko hadn’t been lying. And it did explain things she had accepted already, ages ago, when there hadn’t even been explanations for them. It was like over time, as her shock passed, Amy found herself regarding it all as just some facts. There were still so many questions though, that she wanted to ask, and Riko continuing to evade her did not help, not her, not Amy’s mood, not anything at all. But it was hard to stay mad at someone when they hadn’t done and weren’t actively doing anything to hurt you. Even more when they looked as miserable as Riko did. Amy had stopped trying to corner her, not because it never worked but because Vi had asked her to.

“Won’t do any good,” Vi had said, “You’re both on your last teeth and far too busy with other stuff. Relaxing about it is the best you can do for now.”

It was the _for now_ that had got Amy to listen, well, to properly think about listening. Even with her suspicion that Vi had added those two words only for that reason. But, thinking about it, she had to admit Vi had a point. Riko did look relieved when Amy stopped hounding her and even shot her a few apologetic looks now and then, although still wary. Well, Amy still tried, occasionally. Still, it was no solution, all of them circling and avoiding and sneaking around each other, and Amy could already predict more trouble for the next full moon.

She was sure Vi had told Riko that Edie didn’t want them to masquerade as her any more, as Edie had requested. Amy was equally sure Riko would ignore this and, well, that was understandable. Vi had only been stonily, stoically quiet when Edie brought it up, and Amy had to agree (with Vi, that was). They couldn’t have two people, one of them a teacher and thus guaranteed to be noticed, be ill round the full moons. Obviously Professor Flitwick knew already what they were doing, and Headmaster Dumbledore, too, he’d winked at her impression of Edie during Defence end of last year, so what if Professor Snape found out? Honestly! Sometimes Edie was just impossible.

When Amy woke up next morning, groggy and bleary-eyed, brain feeling like marbles of lead, she was very tempted to use her time-turner for just a little bit more rest. After all she already knew she had it, waking up beside herself wouldn’t be that bad, right? But of course she couldn’t. Any of her roommates might suddenly decide to look in on her, and any number of bad things might happen with the same person directly beside themselves, the pamphlet had said it was tricky, time was, and she just couldn’t, not after Professor McGonagall had gone to all the trouble, and was expecting her to be responsible, and handle this opportunity and.. ugh.

*

It was a matter of pride that Edie insisted on being present in the second period, in Potions. So what if the lunar zenith was before lights out, not even ten hours from now; she’d show him. Not that Professor Snape deigned to even notice her, he was still pointedly ignoring both her and Vi, who was sniffling in a way that would usually have him comment for sure. Hex of the bogey, again.

“You really don’t have to keep hexing your nose off,” Edie whispered to her friend.

Of course Vi only rolled her eyes, making her look right ill herself, with the shadows under her eyes. They finished their brewing, cleaned their table, and made sure the charm under the cauldrons was set to the lowest simmer. They were supposed to finish it in tomorrow’s lesson, admittedly impossible for her, but Edie wanted to get as much right as she could.

“Tell me if it looked right, then?” she said as they were packed up, just after Professor Snape had announced that whoever ruined his potion tomorrow would receive no credit for today either, as the point of his subject was to actually get a proper potion, not muddle along half the way. It looked necessary to stop Vi from starting anything, so, full distraction ahead.

“Right,” Vi said and was angrily silent even as she drew them both under an Obscurantis and, yes, there was an enormous difference of silences from her, and this was angry numbers two and four.

Her sign for “kitchen?” was met with a quick shake of head and a minute delay that meant Vi was suppressing either a sigh or rolling her eyes. It’d distracted her from her temper, though, had her relax a bit round the shoulders, and in no time they had reached Madam Pomfrey’s domain. The mediwitch had clearly been expecting them, Edie knew she would usually never just stand before her big potions cupboard like that, all still and devoid of her brisk, efficient activity.

It was very quiet as they ate, at least until Amy showed up. The simple meal, mild cheese, pickles, and strangely herbal rolls, was much improved by yet another exasperated recount of “that hack of a moth witch was doing it again, how dare she keep acting like Harry’s just gonna drop dead on her say so, argh!” and “How come I get more tangential historical context in Muggle Studies than in History of Magic, what _is_ this? And how could anyone think muggles did that, that’s just absurd and every single piece of actual _evidence_ that says they didn’t!” and of course “I already started Arithmancy, and it’s SO grand, see, there, you can take it both ways and it both works if you use Lagu there, like that..”

But Amy had to leave for Creature Care, and her worried good bye, Madam Pomfry had already indicated Edie wouldn’t be allowed visitors later, left the mood tense and worried. And of course Vi wasn’t chatty on a good day, and Edie was usually good at poking something up but with her own voice the one she couldn’t dim to a manageable level.. well, not ideal. Not that they couldn’t be quiet together just fine, usually, be it working or just relaxing, but right now, today..

“Well, this sucks,” Vi said drily, after a few more, silent moments. She clearly meant it and Edie couldn’t agree more, and even if they might have not the exact same shape of _this_ in mind it was overlapping enough for them to share a relieved look. They were fine until Vi had to leave for fourth period, well, should leave, nominally for Binns.

“For what point and purpose,” Vi said over her hand of cards, “Amy’s there and I know you want to have the notes for Herbology done right and..”

“Vi, please,” Edie had to say, and look her absolutest worst, and feel like a complete idiot for it, and also so, so tired, because she’d told them both, before..

Vi sighed as if she wanted to huff and puff a damn cabin away but threw up her hands in defeat. “Fine,” she said, “you’re so stubborn it’s beyond ridiculous, but fine, I won’t be going to Herbology for you then, yeah, yeah, I know you can get it from Turpin, I heard it the first few thousand times, it’s still a stupid plan, but fine, I’ll just go and pointlessly brave Binns then.. so, be safe, yeah?”

“Course,” Edie said, blinking off the slight dizziness from Vi’s sudden standing, input rolling over input as her friend moved about, collecting her things and talking at the same time.

There’d been something a bit awry about the pointlessly braving Binns, and Vi’s general agitation about this potion was practically buzzing from her in waves. And it was a steep price, yes, that they couldn’t visit her in the Shrieking Shack and help her like they had the last two years. But if she had to chose between her friends breaking far too many rules just to make her feel better versus getting an actual cure, even if it might not be great at first, well, that _was_ rather clear.

“Right,” Vi sighed, “we’ll see you tomorrow then.” And with a small salute and wink she left.

It took a few breaths to calm down properly after that. Edie was insanely grateful to whatever deity had smiled on her to find such friends, all matter of fact and practical about this, who didn’t require her to tell them she was alright when she wasn’t. It was just normal, rain was wet, snow was cold, Amy was brilliant, blunt and had her insane Gryffindor friends, Vi was brilliant, quiet, and had the worst family ever, and Edie was similarly appreciated, and had some problems once a month. They just handled it, like any other circumstance. It took a few more breaths to not think on Riko, right then, but the alien uncertainty of what exactly was going to happen actually helped. And Madam Pomfrey, too, of course, bustling by extra-quietly and giving her another check-up, conjuring up another pot of chamomile tea, well, mostly chamomile and of course not even honey but oh well. It helped letting her drift off.

She’d been warned that instead of dinner Professor Snape would inform her about the potion, and he did. He explained why it was a weaker version she was getting, and why they were trying it on a mostly-empty stomach, and what the potential effects of the potion interacting with any of what she’d eat and drunk all day could be, and why that was even a possibility when usually the first basic rule was that potions did not react with other things, even potions, once ingested.

The wolfsbane potion tasted absolutely vile, stank even worse, and the aftertaste almost made her heave. Professor Snape had clearly anticipated this as he had a glass of cucumber water ready, pushing it towards her when she stopped breathing. It made her mouth feel grey, or maybe beige, but it settled the burning churning in her middle down right quick.

He was practical and calm and it was insanely reassuring, the way he explained what data he would need to improve the potion after this initial run and what was expected this time, matter of fact and straight to the point. The sun was setting by then and Madam Pomfrey knew well enough that Edie could still walk by herself, even if it wasn’t very fast. It wasn’t far, anyway, a door that must have hid in the shadow of the big potions cabinet, a few steps from the other one that led to, Edie thought, further store rooms, for less often used supplies. A very heavy door, hers, looking even more impressive on account of how narrow it was; it made the thick wood, Ash, and the many bands of iron even more prominent.

Cold, moist air sneaked into her nose as she entered, more dungeon than open windows although there were a few of those, very small and with no glass, just iron grates, far up on the wall. Maybe it had just moved here, for her only, that room, from somewhere else entirely, Edie thought, and tried to distract her panicking mind with the puzzle from where it might hail, originally. Moonrise had as usual left all her fine hair standing on end, had her grip her blanket tightly to keep herself from scratching her too-hot, too-narrow skin off, and the potion added to it, and a strange sense of vertigo to her movements, too, almost as if she were a little tipsy, not far from being sick, her legs not far from folding. Even cowering against the wall the world kept on tilting.

“Now, don’t worry, dear, Severus is very good with this and I’ll be right outside,” Madam Pomfrey said and Edie nodded against her knees because she couldn’t even try to smile right now. Not when she could hear the worry and sympathy in the mediwitch’s voice so clearly. “It’s an auspicious night, only a few hours, you’ll be right as rain, no worries..”

Edie nodded again but left her head buried under the blanket. It didn’t hide anything except her but that was at least something. The door closed with a quiet sort of click and snap that told her it was a lock even Riko might have trouble with, not to mention the wards she could feel even through the door, armed inwards, at least most of them, prickling at her senses like floating electric current. Isolating her in here. Breathing was difficult then, the silence around her heavy and stifling, driving home just how utterly alone she was. Even at home there was always Fritz, and she could hear the outside, but she couldn’t even hear the wind outside, nor the rain she knew was falling, could _see_ through the windows, well, grates. Whatever. A shiver ran through her, left her feeling sick.

With no sounds except her own, the weird effect of the potion, because it’d never been like that before, was even more disturbing, as if some mad monkey was fiddling on a dial that regulated her senses, max – mute – max again. The air alternated between roiling, acid fumes and leaden, liquid smoke, being less and less actual air, making breathing a damn hazard. A deafening whimper had her curl up even harder, or at least try to, muscles frozen stiff, movements interrupted by random burning shivers. Edie knew she was hyperventilating, first time in ages, but that didn’t help.

Because that was it, that was the full moon reaching her stupid zenith, Edie knew that feeling so well, hell, she’d correctly counted it down often enough, sixteen times now with her friends staying till five so they could give a “Clear!” from behind the boarded-up windows of the Shack before she got to zero. She’d never been wrong yet. She wasn’t now, either, but it was still all wrong. The change hurt, as always, hurt horribly, ripped the screams right out of her and control, any sort of it, away like a leaf in a wild acidic blizzard, was everywhere, the anguish ripping her apart, throwing her into a whirl of agony as she was remade like some alchemical product. But it was suddenly all wrong, everything, more than ever.

Where she was usually caught, torn, ragged and in scraps, in the trunk or back seat of whatever had become of her, in a terrible, surreal net that confined but also separated, now she wasn’t. Where she was usually fighting to rip at the net to thin its layers so she could know what was happening, where she had actually managed to push through the dissolving haze before, to push the course towards this or that target, there was now nothing, no net, no haze, nothing except that maw of terror. The maelstrom roared around her, and Edie’s last panic-mad thought, before her pieces scattered apart in the cackling, screeching whirl, was of countless suction cups, then screaming.


	12. A Full Moon’s Lunacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Or a fool moon, possibly..  
> clearly nobody is firing on all cylinders at this point, I mean.. *shrugs* /clearly/ a relevant number of cylinders is missing..  
> but, well, there is the nice piece of Riko meeting someone who is clearly much better off in that area, and, well.. the rest is.. a result of the context, I´m afraid.. =/

As soon as she broke her Obscurantis to answer Edie’s roll call, Riko could feel Professor Snape’s look boring into her like a red-hot glowing drill. Vi beside her went entirely still, so she’d seen it too. If looks could kill she’d be dead, might even end up so still.

Didn’t mean she couldn’t do this, though.

He didn’t say anything, didn’t pay them any obvious attention all lesson, but Riko had a terrible itch between her shoulders the entire time, _knew_ she was in the cross-hair of certain doom. Vi was as silent and guarded beside her as Riko had only known her at the Drakes this summer, and they made even less conversation than they had then, so, yes, not good.

The first table Professor Snape checked, he graded the potion, discussing the good and the bad in a way he rarely did in her class but that was apparently normal for Badger/Raven classes (Both Atuin and Sanson got an E for their Audimelior). Then he vanished it, declaring they could go as soon as the table was clean.

He’d never done that, in any class, not ever. Riko’s scalp prickled with nerves. Of course they were the last table. Vi only got an P because it was too runny, he declared, too much Murkweed, waste of good ingredients etcetera.

“You can go, Miss Drake,” Professor Snape then smoothly dismissed Vi, and Vi... Vi actually hesitated. Riko couldn’t breathe for a moment.

Luckily she could scream “Get out! Go!” with only her eyes well enough, and Vi actually listened, thank the gods and spirits. Of course the Hufflepuff just had to nod at _her_ instead of at Professor Snape and then say “I’ll wait outside, yeah?” Fuck, she was as bad as Amy, seriously!

Professor Snape’s critique of her potion passed her by entirely, so focused was Riko on staying still and calm, and also, admittedly, on Vi’s progress as she walked to the door. Professor Snape had not put his wand away after clearing Vi’s potion. The moment Vi had cleared the threshold, he slid back a step, no further than optimal hexxing distance, and in one fluid movement silently cast at the door, a locking maybe, or silence, or both, she had no idea. Next he cast again, aimed at her.

Riko’s heart just about stopped for a moment. A strange tingling sensation rippled over her, calling up memories of currents and moving under water. The strings of her Glamour shivered as if from a strong wind but she had enough experience by now to settle them down again.

“What the fuck..!”

The words, uttered by both, in the same moment, hung between them, taking on surreal weight in the heavy silence that followed. Professor Snape was, of bloody course, the first to rally. His face was, although even paler than usual, a study in inscrutable, his eyes a harrowing flat black.

“Well done, Miss Slyver,” his silky tone suggested the exact opposite, and Riko could almost taste his anger, the riptides under the smooth surface as he added, “Anything you’d like to say?”

“No,” Riko said. Then, because she did have a sense of self-preservation, thank you very much, she added, “I think it’s rather obvious.”

He had, after all, clearly and expectedly, seen through her Glamour, which meant that cast had been a finite for a common visual illusion, which made sense, right down to it not working as expected. She’d gestured at the added comment but just a little and carefully, too. Surely that was no reason for him to vivisect her with his eyes. Of course he’d been bound to poke at it when an Edie showed up today, Riko was still embarrassed she hadn’t even noticed Professor Flitwick see through it last year. That had been sheer bloody luck, that she hadn’t been using Polyjuice at the time.

“Polyjuice,” Professor Snape then said, in the same measured, icy drawl of her doom at the end of last year.

Weighting. Analytical. Not to be stopped. It made her skin crawl, but clearly that was the least of her problems. She’d thought it nerves, the sudden feel of innumerable, invisible threads of spidersilk brushing over her, or rather, inside her, further inside but not completely unlike having her ear cleaned, if one imagined cold, messy edges as a the cave for those spiders.

“What!” she heard herself croak. Only, that question was already answered and even the automatic slip into quicktime couldn’t prevent her heartfelt, if strangled, “Fuck _off_!”

She did manage to stop there, though, which was something, and she also managed to stuff the panicked part of her that wanted to recall everything she had ever thought in his presence into another strongbox and sink it in hastily imagined tar, tar everywhere, only tar, no thoughts, only tar. She’d only taken half a step back from the table and that was something too, and while she couldn’t just close her eyes (just NO, no bloody fucking way, _not safe_ ), she now had her eyes fixed on his right shoulder, which would just have to do for now. Fuck. Tar. Tar tar tar tar.

“Miss Slyver,” a quiet, blood-freezingly glacial voice said, and Riko had to grit her teeth to not look up automatically.

“Professor Snape,” she replied, when he didn’t say anything else. She didn’t stop staring at his shoulder, though. It hadn’t so much as twitched.

“You should use this chance to explain yourself,” he stated, no less cold, “and do try to look me in the face, if you will. There will be no repeat.”

Riko swallowed drily against the panic trying to claw it’s way out her throat, took a deep breath and let it out. She imagined her head filled with tar, only the prepared bits of her explanation floating upwards. Then she looked him in the face, which was again pale and inscrutable, k’so.

“The headmaster allowed Miss Eohyrde to attend Hogwarts. Her head of house had no complaint about my actions. I am officially ill and in the hospital wing. There is no way I’ll stop, not with Lupin here.”

Her scalp prickled with nerves and probably all the free-floating energy that had, somehow, no idea how, found its way into the usually so controlled atmosphere of the classroom. Riko kept her mind on tar because _there will be no repeat_ could have just as well meant no repeat chance, and how could she be sure he wouldn’t repeat that.. _that_ , or that she’d even notice, was it really just her scalp, her nerves, or did he..? Lead pooled in her guts.

“And that is all you have to say,” Professor Snape remarked, voice tight and precise,”to your own head of house.”

Riko remained quiet and still and kept thinking of tar, although it was tar with lots of dread and possibly even panic in it. Still tar, though.

“Not a house matter,” she grit out when he appeared to wait for another answer, “also perfectly under control and handled already.”

She could almost hear his teeth grind at the words and he was staring stark-black daggers at her, but the thing that made an actual shiver run down her spine was that her scalp was prickling like mad, almost as if her hair was trying to crawl back in, and how was she to tell if he didn’t..

“I see,” Professor Snape said, back to being icy cold and murderous, and with the history of this sentence, and what he clearly could do, might have, likely _had_ done, any number of times already, Riko couldn’t stop the cold shiver, of fright but also fury, for having had someone poke around, unnoticed and uninvited, in her own bloody _head_.

“Clearly, if this is not a matter for your head of house, well, some matters do need to be handled by the highest ranking member of the faculty, quite obvious that,” he sneered, his teeth bared in the most terrible way. “It does involve students of different houses, after all,” he added, and Riko knew terror then, and also betrayal, because he knew, he _did_ , she _knew_ he did, and to use it like that.. try and make her back down, what did he.. that bloody _fucking_..

“Obviously,” Riko spat out between clenched jaws and then bit her tongue to not rail at him, glad for the flat, defensive mask freezing her face.

“Very well,” he said, decreed really, and under the circumstances it was all she could do to not back away as he moved towards her.

She froze only for a moment, and the alternative, Riko wasn’t sure if fight or flight would’ve won out, would’ve been worse undoubtedly. She was trapped for now, so neither was acceptable, which meant that freeze was the best she could do. That and take, then let go of, a short, bracing breath. Except even this best-of-all-scenarios behaviour somehow wasn’t acceptable to him. If he’d looked mad before, and he definitely had, then he blew right past terrifying now, landing smack in the middle of surreal. He froze too and one of his eyes twitched in a way that would probably scar her for life, like he was holding onto control by a mere hair.

“Do keep up,” he said, tonelessly, without any inflection, like a freaking robot in one of Amy’s telly shows, not even looking at her as he stalked out. Riko did.

*

Shock, Edie decided, once she’d got past waking up (horrible), and being tended to (as matter of fact and thus calming as usual), and being interviewed on it all (a strange mix of the two). Acute stress reaction, to be exact, a term that didn’t even have a proper theoretical equivalent in Lea’s apprenticeship, had made her sister rant for an hour straight on the splintered way mental stuff was treated and not categorized and had no unifying theory at all.

When she jerked up again it was from a kaleidoscope of snarls and burning light and pain, into a weak, shaking but numb body. There was a nasty itch in her side and her forearm, and a pulling twinge in her shin, which had apparently been shattered, and her teeth felt weirdly cool. When she ran her tongue over them carefully they were already back to normal. Breathing was still a gamble, her senses alternating between mad maximum and nothing at all. Blinking carefully gave her a vague time, late morning, and the bandage on her arm, well, that was not a good sign, and when she tried to move her leg that didn’t really work either.

Taking another breath and ignoring the shock of smelling nothing at all although it still burned her throat had her scramble for some rationality in all this. This hadn’t been expected, not by anyone. Instead the next blink called up the kaleidoscope again and the memory, if it was one, became more detailed. And that couldn’t be right, that couldn’t be a memory, it made no sense at all. She’d have to ask Madam Pomfrey, later, she had to, because that couldn’t be real, it just couldn’t. But the complete lack of the usual snatches from beyond the veil that just hadn’t been there left her scared, lacking any sort of balance to deal with any of this, none of which should have happened at all.

She almost laughed bitterly at that thought, only stopped when her huff of breath seemed to taste of the entirety of everything that had ever been in the hospital wing. Swallowing hurt so she tried to do as little of it as possible. Just to properly push away the ridiculous flashes of impossible not-memories, because she couldn’t have been herself, that couldn’t have been her limbs, it was simply not possible, was, as a matter of fact, inconceivable, literally, seriously, it was, because it had to be, anyway, to get that nonsense from her mind she defaulted to her good old retreat: what if. What if everything wasn’t as it shouldn’t be but instead as it should. There had to have been a way, for them to not be attacked, for Leon to still be around, for Kean to grow up knowing him.

If only they hadn’t gone to out to visit the stables, Kel hadn’t even thrown her litter when Edie got back, still in that holding-out-for-it period, it had been so, so stupid she still wanted to cry whenever she thought of it. Of course it should’ve been safe, of course there’d been no way she’d have turned away Leon’s proud offer, a dare, really, to go take a look. Why would she have. Why couldn’t she have, though, just the once? Then none of this would’ve happened. Leon would be in sixth year and no way would he be in Ravenclaw, he’d be a Gryffindor for sure, oh, and the fun, of all varying kinds, he’d have with those varying Weasleys, he’d drive that prefect up the walls and he’d make prefect, too, of course he would, and no way would any rotten bully be able to hurt Amy, no matter how many points she might’ve lost in first year, and last year he would’ve helped them too, would’ve stopped all of that nonsense, would’ve known it was a basilisk..

Maybe, no, surely, if he’d been there, that morning, he’d have known, he’d have been able to help, surely he would’ve done something and Oma wouldn’t be just gone, she would still be fine and nobody would have to constantly worry about her, and she wouldn’t have to be afraid of that.. that horrible man coming back, who’d looked at her with such cold eyes, had watched so closely as Kel sniffed her hand and bumped against it, had asked so carefully what she could even remember with that head wound, a bad break you said, Mr Eohyrde?

The mad monkey on her sense-dials seemed to know at least a little mercy, then, or at least take a break, and after a few more breaths Madam Pomfrey came by and helped her drink some tea again, no potions just yet, dear, but not long now, and Edie drifted off again although she still wanted to ask about that memory. But better not just yet, better get her voice back properly, right, brace herself, because she really wasn’t sure which alternative would be worse, her going mad or.. She managed to avoid thinking of the mess with Riko only mostly, by pointedly not-thinking of tonight, and the potion, and all the questions on it not working, but dozing still let odd fractures of thought into your brain and it was all messy.

But then, her head was usually a mess round the full moon, so much harder to stay calm. It was like every single thing she could sense had to be evaluated for threat, and that was saying nothing of how utterly, fluctuatingly _weird_ it was this time. When she heard hard boots, long stride, hasty, nearing the hospital wing, it had her, well, not jerk up, not even wake properly, but it did disturb. There was an urgency there, possibly headed her way, possibly dangerous, her senses insisted, before being shut up by smells of hospital wing, safe, then all sounds faded rapidly to mute again. It allowed her to drift, half mindlessly cataloguing the smells around her, fresh linens and starch, oxidized steel and cedar and pure electric rage..

“What,” she jerked up to Professor Snape’s sharp, cold voice, straight into a full-body wince because although he was talking as quietly as usual he was not taking any pains to really talk quietly and everything hurt suddenly, her body trying to vacate its too-tight, itching skin, “did you do?”

Edie blinked, desperately trying to make sense of this, any of this painful input, all bright, coldish light versus sharp-edged shadows, too-sharp sounds and too-sharp attention, aimed straight at her, making all manner of alarm bells go off, instinctual ones as well as panicked sane ones, and the smells were not helping either, pungent, like juniper about to catch fire, together with his usual cedar and the herbs and..

“What?” she croaked out, when the blinking did not help, and forced her arm to move so she could cover her nose.

“You..” Edie had never seen Professor Snape cut himself off and it was about as terrifying as his entire presence here. He looked as close to mad as she could imagine of the usually so controlled man, teeth bared in a way that made her fine hair rise as he clicked his mouth shut. “Polyjuice, Miss Eohryde. Ring any bells? An illegal potion, declared Dark by the Ministry since before you were a bad idea in you parents pants. Two of it’s ingredients controlled, too. Hard to get, that, unless one has contacts. Contacts that want one to be safe, specifically.”

He looked about ready for murder, eyes hard and sharp, stabbing at her in a way she’d never seen, and Edie couldn’t move, couldn’t even breathe, much less answer him. Couldn’t even think to answer him, all her brain seemed able to produce was a useless repeat of “No, no, no, no”.

“Don’t _think_ that I didn’t have suspicions on how you never missed a class last year,” he aimed a finger at her, eyes narrowed to point-black obsidian slits, and she could hear his teeth grind before he repeated, louder even than before, “What did you.. How dare you make them..”

“Severus!” a shocked voice, equally loud and painful, exclaimed from further away. Madam Pomfrey, and Edie could have cried with relief if only Professor Snape wasn’t directly in her face and the mediwitch still yards away that could as well be leagues.

All she wanted was to close her eyes, draw the blanket over her head, just make it all go away, especially him, only she couldn’t, certainly not with Madam Pomfrey not here yet. And then, it must’ve been the look of utter contempt in his eyes that set it off, Edie suddenly _could_ breathe, felt she could, no, _needed_ to breathe, breathe _fire,_ right _at_ him! What did he have to hold _her_ in contempt for when he’d all but ignored her all month and she’d never..

“I never,” she spit out, then had to draw a breath through her sleeve, “I never asked for their help, I never.. I _told_ them not to, I.. how _dare_ you!” Edie couldn’t say any more because breathing, even through her sleeve, was so hard, was impossible.

Shit, she’d moved badly not quite-sitting up and the muscles in her side and torso seized up and just like that she was curled on her side, barely biting back a whine and so mad she wanted to burn the entire world, and him, and damnit, she’d told Vi, had trusted her friend, shit, and this, after Riko’d all but mocked her for not being able to handle it..

“.. _dare_ you!” Edie heard as she managed to tune in again, “That’s quite enough, harassing an innocent student, and in that condition, why, I should..”

“Oh, do tell me, _Madam Pomfrey_ , what you should. Or, wait, how about you direct me to your other patient! I hear Miss Slyver is quite officially in your care and as head of house it _is_ important to know what one’s charges are up to, as I’m sure you know..”

Edie couldn’t fathom how the mediwitch was able to answer the swirling fury in that statement with no more than an unimpressed sniff, it had her shaking where she was still trying to draw some air back into her lungs.

“Sorry to say it, but you can’t see her,” Madam Pomfrey said in a tone Edie had never heard her use, coldly polite and flatly dishonest. “As the resident mediwitch I can’t allow her any visitors at the moment. But don’t worry, Professor, she’ll be good as new tomorrow morning.”

Edie, still curled up and now with her eyes closed on sheer survival instinct, couldn’t just hear, she could actually feel the suppressed growl, the gritting of teeth at this verbal slap. Her pulse was thundering as if to break her open but she could still her the mediwitch add a falsely bright, “Say, Professor, don’t you have lessons directly after lunch?”

He left then, with no further comment, but even with only Madam Pomfrey about, or maybe because of it, Edie couldn’t force her eyes open, couldn’t even move herself, had to be held, gently and firmly, so she could take a potion, at last, a silvery one, smelled a bit of Lavender. Madam Pomfrey was talking in a calm, soothing voice but Edie registered hardly any of the content before she drifted off in misty confusion.

*

Vi hadn’t said anything and it was driving Amy _spare_. Because she just knew they, meaning Vi and Riko, had made some plan for this, well, last night’s full moon, and of course Riko was still avoiding her like the plague, and Vi hadn’t said a single bloody thing. Had in fact been not-around so thoroughly since yesterday she might as well have turned into their elusive Slytherin problem case.

Well, she was here now, but she hadn’t been at the Hufflepuff table when Amy got to the Great Hall at their usual early time, and then Amy had been stuck with Harry and Ron, who was, yet again, ragging on Crookshank just because the git (Ron, obviously) couldn’t properly take care of his ancient, ruddy rat. Cats hunted, it was entirely normal; Crookshank was most certainly not the first cat to do it, certainly not to Scabbers, not in their common room nor Hogwarts. And Vi was looking even more frazzled than yesterday, well, frazzled for Vi, but she clearly hadn’t woken on the right side this morning, not from the way she glared balefully at, hah, at Ron as she made her way over towards Amy, giving her a nod and tense not-quite-smile.

“Right, there y’are, sorry for the delay, let’s try and get some decent seats, eh? Fellers,” she nodded coolly in the direction of Ron and Harry without sparing them an actual glance, already towing Amy behind her.

Amy hear Ron snort something probably rude behind them and followed quicker, over to a table already occupied by Alice and Marie. They waved easily when they realized they were the target of Vi’s sharpish walk, and they were certainly better company than Ron in a temper and Harry the silent accomplice, she knew that much for a fact although just how much was a recent discovery, via Arithmancy.

“Hey, Hermione, Tory, we’d been wondering if y’aright,” Alice greeted, while Marie eyeballed them in that special if friendly Hufflepuff way.

Vi huffed a put-upon sigh as she dropped into her seat and she really looked quite badly under the weather, if you’d let the current weather drive a bus and park it on her. More ill and exhausted than the usual tired Amy had gotten uncomfortably used to over the last few weeks.

“Right,” Vi said distractedly, then, resolutely and evasively digging her things from her bag, “I was up early, didn’t want to wake you folks. I had to finish some stuff anyway, maybe keep Snape from ripping my essay to shreds entirely this time, you know..”

“Of course,” Marie smiled reassuringly, “he’s always been a hardass but this year he’s gone entirely off the rails..”

Then Professor Sprout called the class to attention and started today’s lesson on wingnuts. Amy had already read all about them, if only last weekend, rather late, too, but of course there was the practical part of the lesson, which was always interesting, and Professor Sprout liked to add bits that weren’t in the books at all or mention other plants that had some relation in use or somesuch, that weren’t listed or written about either. But even so Amy had a hard time staying focused, because Vi continued to not say anything. Yes, they had two obviously curious listeners on the table, but the thing was, Vi didn’t say anything in the sense of actually not talking, or hardly, and looking half dead to boot. Amy knew she was impatient, sometimes, a bit, but knowing it didn’t change it, and she wanted to know what was going on, and her friend wasn’t talking!

“Riko didn’t look too well yesterday, said she might go to Madam P today, if it didn’t get better,” Vi said at long last, when the lesson was almost over and Amy about ready to explode.

And what exactly could you say to that, what _did_ that even say, considering the entire situation, honestly. Despite the apologetic, if still very tense, looks from Vi Amy was in a right mood by the time she arrived at Transfigs, even with Ron calmed down and Harry showing actual interest in the wingnuts, which were really fascinating so that was nice, but still. She hated not knowing. Of course Riko wasn’t there. She hadn’t been visible, but that was nothing new, and when Professor McGonagall remarked on students being absent without leave, it was Parkinson, that poisonous goat, who spoke up without even raising her hand.

“She’s in the hospital wing,” she didn’t so much excuse as declare. “The Matron said she can’t even have visitors. I have her essay though.”

“Hm,” Professor McGonagall said, “Very well, I will speak to Madam Pomfrey about this of course.”

“Of course,” Parkinson replied, all chill, formal politeness, and Amy could, despite her instinctive bristling at it, almost understand, if not agree.

Of course Professor McGonagall would do the same if it were her, or even Lavender, who was a bit of an airhead and liked to exaggerate, but Amy wasn’t sure she’d say it quite like that, and Riko was definitely not one to exaggerate, and just because she sometimes got into trouble..

“Oi, that’s what had your Drake in such a mood?” Ron nudged her across the space between his and Harry’s table and the one she shared with Neville.

She rolled her eyes at him and nudged back when he drew a sharp look from Professor McGonagall. He’d meant it nicely, she knew. By the time they headed to lunch, Amy was nursing a headache from constantly making sure to be fit and competent while helping out Neville, so that Professor McGonagall wouldn’t think she was being irresponsible, all the while wondering about Riko and exactly what dubious plan Vi and her had come up with, and not getting annoyed at Ron and Harry as they tried to distract her with various comments and jokes. Vi appearing from thin air at the foot of the big stairs into the Entrance Hall was not surprising in the least and would have been a relief if her friend didn’t look ready to jump out of her skin and start hexing, shoulders almost up at her ears with urgent tension of the liquid-draw-and-hex kind.

“I’ll see you for Potions then,” Amy said quickly and waved a hasty goodbye, already hurrying down, clutching her bag and ignoring whatever Ron was grumbling about now.

“You didn’t see Snape and Edie on the stairs, did you,” Vi said, didn’t even really ask, her tone so tense Amy was thrown for a second.

“No,” she said, startled, but of course, Riko excused, free to be Edie, walking, oh no, walking with Snape?! “Where?! What..”

Vi gave a sharp shake of her head and stalked toward the Great Hall and their usual end of the Hufflepuff table so fast that Amy had trouble keeping up. She did talk, though, if rather quietly, so Amy bit her lips and hurried along, barely evading people in the pre-lunch chaos.

“He said we could leave once we’d cleaned out the tables while he was grading the potions and we were last, of bloody course, and then.. then Edie was last and I said I’d wait and it _wasn’t long_ but then he just suddenly stormed out of the classroom, and she after him, and they.. she signed but..” Vi was clearly in full paranoia mode and Amy wanted to roll her eyes but then Megan and Peter were standing directly in their way.

“Hey there, what did you get for your potion then?” Peter asked, directly followed by Megan “And where’d you leave Edie, she alright?”

Vi stopped with an aggrieved sigh. “Hey there, Hermione,” the two added belatedly as she drew to a stop too, and she knew they were friendly, were _being_ friendly, but Amy also knew they were two of the most gossipy people in their year, so, alright, perhaps not just paranoia.

“It was a bit thin, so he said Poor, too runny, criminal waste, etcetera,” Vi said, “and Edie had something to talk with him about and said I should just go ahead..”

Then, with a curt nod fitting her tone, she took a corner of Amy’s bag and drew her away from her return greeting, to their seats. Amy was just a little too surprised to object and it seemed the duo were waiting for some other victims or maybe friends, so she had at last her chance.

“Explain,” she said, leaning across the table, waiting until Vi stopped scanning the entrance and looked her way to add a severe, “properly.”

“Right,” Vi said, adjusted her hat, took a breath. She looked a good bit calmer after, although she was still constantly eyeing past Amy’s head. “Right, so, as I said, she signed, double the man, then target, then hold, well, th’stop, y’know, and Great Hall. But she’s not shown yet and neither has he, and you didn’t see’em. It must be th’headmaster, else she’d ’ve signed Flitwick, or, there’s no other reason to walk up, is there..?”

“No,” Amy said, as much in reply as in denial, not to mention discontent at the definite lack of actual explanation. “Properly,” she repeated, “as in from the start, or, alright, just correct me then,” when Vi looked like she might implode. That got her a nod.

“Just like, err, normal you two went to Potions, although Edie said that first day that Professor Flitwick..” Amy floundered on how to continue without letting potential listeners get anything but Vi only nodded again.

“That was the point,” Vi said, “and another reason for her, along with her strategically the better option in all ways, her words. You want a list?”

“No,” Amy said again, less forceful now that the picture was rolling out in front of her, damn, Riko was entirely crazy but Amy could see it. “You could have told me, I could’ve helped, somehow, what were you thinking? Isn’t the whole point of being sneaky to solve things before..”

“It seemed like good idea,” Vi interrupted, shooting her a grumpy, warning look with the quote. “You don’t get how he’s been about her all year. In that sitch, Amy, you just don’t _play_ when the opponent holds all the cards, right, it would’ve burned the only advantage we had.”

Amy sighed, disgusted she could follow the points, but also that they hadn’t thought to include her. She might have come up with a better plan, it wasn’t entirely impossible, or she could have corrected some assumptions, or brought in more options, and it wasn’t fair to exclude her.

“Well, what did you think he’d do? I get this is not in the expected range, but let’s see the threadwork..” Amy tried, because there had to be a way to fix it.

Vi shot her a look, sardonic and grateful in equal measure. “Well, we went through the usual to be expected, points, detention, letter home, also public exposure, allies, that sorta thing, and you can see how she’d win them all hands down, yeah. As I said, seemed a good idea at the time.”

Amy could see it. It also helped her to get a grip. “Alright then, I get it, it’s really not that bad, Vi, no, honestly, listen. So Snape’s in a temper, he does that, and dragged her before the headmaster, so what. Dumbledore let her come, he’ll understand, I’m sure, I mean, he didn’t..”

“The headmaster is still here,” Vi interrupted her in a rude hiss, gesturing, “and Riko isn’t in _his_ old house, she’s in the one he obviously doesn’t like, _or_ trust, and he’s _mental_ , and Snape has no business dragging her there, _he’s_ her head-of-house, and if they go by the rules they can..”

Then Vi didn’t so much fall quiet or freeze, she turned to stone, volcanic stone, if the heat of her glare was any indication of the potential for fiery doom. Amy blinked, the fine hair on her neck rising, then resolutely turned her head towards what Vi was tracking with her death glare. Snape, of course, and only Snape alone, and the way he stalked to the High Table was admittedly somewhat worrying. He didn’t spare them a glance but the atmosphere around him seemed almost acidic as he passed them, a vicious chill that almost had her shudder, every line and movement promising bloody murder if provoked. And of course with Snape breathing wrong might provoke him.

Suddenly Amy wasn’t as confident about Riko’s prospects and the mess their friend had got herself into. As she watched, Snape pointedly ignored Professor McGonagall while he bowed to the headmaster and spoke almost directly into his ear. Dumbledore looked at him, probably expecting more explanation, but he only got staring. After a few moments of that the headmaster made a production of his good-natured agreement, stood, giving cheery farewells to the teachers currently at the table, and ambled easily towards the exit, his sprightly step belying his age, even with the yards-long silvery beard. At that point Snape had sat down and was suddenly staring at them.

*

“Stay,” Professor Snape had decreed before striding out again, as if she were a bloody dog, and Riko was almost inclined to raise her leg in a corner on sheer principle. Not that she ever would, it was just a sudden urge, really, and maybe she was using it to not freak out quite as badly.

He’d looked ready to spew lightning, but he hadn’t moved closer to her than a couple feet since he’d told her to keep up. As if she were catching, that damn bastard. And here she was, left alone in the headmaster’s office. Clearly Professor Snape had gone insane. He was gone though, for now. Riko took a deep breath and let it out again, still too rattled to even check her surroundings properly, mission calm just a few inches too far away yet. Because these were the environs where she’d have to deal with the headmaster, who was mad, who was still the one thing Voldemort feared, who could see through her Obscurantis with a glance, and who could obviously _read thoughts or minds_.

Professor Snape could, after all, and she’d heard the rumour first of Dumbledore, and, in short, she was doomed. Doomed, doomed, doomed.

Only, no, she wasn’t, Riko reminded herself, _insisted_ , and took another deep breath. She refused to be doomed. The headmaster had allowed Edie to Hogwarts, and Edie’s head of house had no complaints, and, come to think of it, they had doubled as Edie already in one of his lessons, when he’d substituted for Lockhart, end of last year. Which, hm, not a good thing to think about, that mess, and at the time it’d been Amy on Edie-duty. But still. He had to know, right, and he hadn’t complained yet.

That was.. that _had_ to be something. And Snape had no proof of any kind, unless you counted knowing, but surely he wouldn’t show his thoughts to Dumbledore, and even if he did she could’ve, maybe, just read about Polyjuice. They didn’t have anything on her, they didn’t, nothing solid anyway, _and_ she was prepared, had in fact worked all summer for this eventuality. Which had actually worked, as proven earlier. Well, for a given value, and Riko wasn’t going to kid herself that it’d be enough to keep Albus fucking Dumbledore out of her mind if he wanted in, but she would notice, right, if he tried something, could try to interrupt. If he even would. Clearly the best use of this skill was on people unaware of it, refusing to believe in the possibility, which, hah, Draco, in your face! Taking another deep breath, Riko closed her eyes, focussed on a very specific exercise, and breathed out.

When she opened her eyes again she took stock of her environs, placing every fresh image and impression, all on its own, disconnected, in its very own marble. Everything from earlier was a bit disjointed, divided into it’s own separate marbles, and thus stored with no superfluous, distracting links to things that would only lead into confusing mazes of more links, the now-and-here was clearly more important.

The headmaster’s office was a rather nice, round room, now that she could give it proper attention. A number of spindle-legged tables was standing in groups, some had curious silvery instruments on them, whirring softly and emitting a whispy, greyish mist that dissipated where it’d flow down the polished wooden edges, others had thick leathers rolled out with stones and thick lines and writing on it that looked terribly interesting. The walls were covered with portraits, though, so, yeah, bad idea to just swan over and have a look at whatever the headmaster was up to. At least none of them were attempting conversation, content to look down their noses at her, or snooze in their frames, or, a few, visiting their neighbours and talking behind raised hands, so, yeah, most likely about her, specially with those looks.

Pointedly turning her back on them, Riko let her eyes trail over the enormous, claw-footed desk that in it’s overall form reminded her a bit of her bathtub at Malfeasant. The colour didn’t really match but it was polished so smoothly that the light reflected almost white off the handsome wood, and the haphazard layers of papers and scrolls on top did call to mind mounds of bubbles. A high-backed chair was behind it, though, banishing the idea of bath and water, and past that was an equally enormous shelf, filled with books, scrolls, and odd objects that had Riko itching to poke at them.

Also, the Sorting Hat, part of its brim hanging limply off the shelf, and beside it a fancy-looking sword in a glass case. Between a high, black cabinet and the door sat a golden bird-perch with a sad mound of ash on it. Right, the phoenix, Amy had said he was called Fawkes? Not in, or not active right now. The massive oak doors were brightly polished, the brass door knobs gleaming but not, luckily, shaped as griffin-ish as the knockers outside. There was a nice, big fireplace in the wall past that and, beside some pretty windows, that was about the full circle already, and the portraits were still staring. Riko sighed and pushed her hands in her pockets, eyes drawn to the massive shelf again. It was the most polite place to look at, surely? At least while pointedly ignoring the portraits.

Most of the books had no writing on their backs and the scrolls seemed to be sorted by colour of their ties and possibly by different knots. There were geodes and carved stones, a glass jar with different quill tips, and opaque jars, and.. The glass case with the sword had a small plaque with very spindly handwriting, almost completely polished away, so old, and even with her experience in squinting at hand-written manuscripts and journals it was a bad job. The sword’s etching was far clearer. Riko almost took a step back, the fine hair on her arms and neck raising. She’d seen very close-up the hole that blade had put between her house guardian’s eyes. “Gryffindor” was engraved just below the hilt, which was gleaming bright silver, the massive rubies shining like fresh blood on icy snow.

She blinked and shook her head, used the movement to loosen her shoulders before they’d cramp, and also to shake the marbles lose again that had tried to form into shapes and links. The basilisk hadn’t bled red anyway. Besides, better to have marbles lose than let her wiring be seen. With the hat directly beside it though, she couldn’t help recall what Amy had told her had happened down there, and _that_.. And Riko _had_ often wondered about its words at her sorting..

After that.. that Bloody Baron (depressingly fitting name, that, although in no way sufficed to describe her loathing for the scumbag) Riko was not set to give any benefit of doubt to any one or thing, much less to one that had helped kill the basilisk, no matter if Potter was dying or not. In one quick movement she had grabbed the grubby, faded thing and put in on her head, ready to cut and vivisect if need be even as it slipped down over her eyes, still much too large. Because if it’d known and done nothing, too..

“Now what is this mess supposed to be,” the small, sharpish voice demanded in her ear as soon as Riko was staring at its black inside. It still smelled of old cupboard, which was plain ridiculous as it could clearly air out here as much as it might want, open shelf and all.

“And now you’re insulting me, ah, no, I see you already started that before even putting me on! Well, now! And I do hate to repeat myself! What am I, a scrabbling worker of mosaics? Most assuredly not!”

“Well, did you?” Riko thought impatiently and as loud and clear as she could, with all those lose marbles cluttering about.

There was a sort of huff directly in her ear but it was only the sound, or idea, lacking the actual movement of air, which made it strange, as if it were further removed, conjuring up, despite the surroundings, a small den and a komainu at her back. Shivering uneasily, Riko tried to shrug off the distraction.

“This isn’t going to work, child. And of course I didn’t know what was going on. Nobody ever bothers to tell me a thing, all they ever ask is which house or, occasionally, what did you think of this or that head. As if there’s nought else going on, even in this quaint corner of th’world..”

Riko registered the answer to her question and that was about it. Damn it, clearly the hat was right, this wasn’t going to work, far too slow and..

“Try adding some water, eh, s’always good, I’m telling’ya,” the voice purled, reminding Riko all of a sudden of small streams splashing and babbling along. It helped a lot in picturing a pond filling up with water, the marbles glinting and shifting, moving easy now in eddies and streams.

“Hah, there now, see. With all that glass-on-glass you’d have got hit right sharp soon enough, th’Egyptians made their own lightning like that, I heard...”

“Are you quite sure you’re a hat?” Riko asked at that, grateful but still wary; curious, always that, but inclined to courtesy now despite its intrusion.

“Are you quite sure you want that answered?” teased the little voice back after a small pause that Riko found telling already. “Oh.. in detail even, well, that doesn’t happen often. I mean, I do introduce myself yearly, it is an odd question to ask, you do realize that, right?”

“Oh, alright then,” it did again that odd huffing sound when Riko only thought of a sunny smile and pretty question marks but it sounded almost chuffed. “I’m an Assessor, dear, I assess. Who better to sort all those as come here, with those four ever travellin’ about and prone to argue over picks..”

For a moment there you could’ve knocker her over with a feather, a normal one, even. Riko recalled that talent, Assessor, it was one of those really rare talents very few families ever showed, a talent, not an enchantment, nor was it replicable via spells, and..

“How’d you become a hat, then?” she asked, well, thought or rather tried to think while not thinking just as much of all the other questions, ranging from “Who were you?” to “How can you see inside my head if you’re an Assessor?”, from “What did you see in my head then?”, to “And what now?”, fighting off a plethora of older memories, legends and stories of people caught in items by magic. Usually it required outside action to break, bindings always worked like that, inside you were screwed, bound to whatever purpose had been worked into them, and..

“Tsk, focus, child,” the voice said and Riko realized she’d all but forgot about her mental picture when it suddenly flirred up again before her eyes, like a transmission just starting.. k’so.. alright, that answered at least one of her questions and she let the marble with that shock sink right down and whirl away on a little eddy as she had the picture solidify.

“There now,” the voice positively sniffed, strangely like Amy explaining something the third time, at once proud and put-upon. “And I’ll have you know I’m neither stuck nor enslaved nor anything of the sort. T’was a deal, honoured still and fairly so..”

The voice sounded proud and just a bit stiff, a core of steel under tension below the soft waves of sound. Riko scrambled to translate what wanted to be a whole-body shiver of unreal proportions into a thick coat of ice over her pond, shading the marbles roiling below it.

“You’re quite sure you’re sane, yeah? Posing as a hat and all?” Riko imagined the whisper ghosting over the ice in a light breeze, all her fine hair standing on end, thoughts of the Bloody Baron rising like bile. She’d thought him sane, too, and that was not a mistake she’d repeat.

To say that the reply, a strange, breezy laugh, not unlike wind in leaves and trees, startled her would be an understatement. She hadn’t been very courteous as questions or even any sort of conversation went, after all. The wind now blowing it into her mind-picture was warm, though, and light, gentle almost, and it didn’t feel shifty or off.

“I see you met the Baron, eh?” the voice commented, more than it asked. “Right aptly named, that one. A fool moon’s sickle comes to mind, eh, but what can one expect from you iron-blooded, flesh-bound lot. You never believe it, but when the root’s hold is gone the rest drifts, goes off..”

Riko’s head was spinning from all that could, might, should be attached to, and inferred from the words, and the other hints. It had the ice on the pond rise in a swirling mist, setting the surface to dance and the marbles to whirl. Fittingly small, silvery fish formed, shooting through the water like lightning in a bottle and as if that had been a cue small insects were rising over the water, bright sunlight playing over it all, setting it to glitter and shine.

“Well met, then, even in my head, and greetings,” she thought out, the corners of her mouth tugging upwards of their own accord for what felt like the first time in ages. “You’re welcome to converse, of course, but you do have quite the advantage, being the guest and, it seems, a fae?”

She was still learning how exactly this mental image worked and so she only watched as associated marbles drifted up in eddies, felt where she could influence them but only toyed with them a little, lengthening the way. It wasn’t necessary to do more here, after all. The light carried interesting shades, not of her, and that was another thing learned, and fitting, and something to work with.

“Oh, well met, indeed,” the voice laughed, again a breeze carrying the rustling of sun-warmed leaves. “T’is good t’see those little visitors kept the customs, that’s rare with any fleshbound.. but they do live longer, not quite as much iron taint I s’pose.. Call me Feyhart, then, child, and I needed a way to deliver my verdict, did I not. Never got it quite like young Serpentsoul but it’s to be expected, you’re all such odd flames..”

That was.. well, that was interesting, for one. And courteous. And this time Riko caught herself before her mental image could fade, focused on that for a heartbeat’s time, then two.

“Hah, that always trips you up, little dears, oh, but the wonder’s a nice touch, so, well met indeed, little serpent..”

“Riko,” she thought, still dazed, still buzzing with all this. “Least I can offer.. and, err, apologies.. for the.. ah, manners..”

“Oh, pft, forget either, young Riko,” the voice murmured, the amusement catching up like pebble stones in and under moss. “Now, tell me ’bout those tumbling, buzzing flyers, hm?”

“They’re.. they belong,” Riko started, the new focus helping relegate the mess of fresh input farther down, for later. “Picture-ways, no right pond without ’em, and they’re cover, too, and.. and like the fish, they’re active. Good for the upper layer, no? All buzz and easily ignored, hah, and try catching or even keepin’ an eye on a single one in that mix..”

“Mmhmm, not bad with the imagery,” the voice had turned gravelly and shifting, earth around stones, sharp and blunt, and winding roots of all sorts, and..

“Tsk, mind yer marbles, dear, distractions should be _your_ game, in your own.. heartwood, I suppose,” the.. no, Feyhart said, and shot her again the flash of image, letting Riko rebuild it so much easier than from scratch. “And keep in mind how heavy things sink down, below the moving waves and beyond the light, under shifting sands and grainy earth, layers and layers of it, that’s where they lie, geodes and veins, bones preserve best in tar..”

The description was no less captivating this time, but Riko managed to keep the image by extending it, not letting her focus stray entirely from the pond even as she could almost see all the possibilities and different layers and tensions in the earth, and she knew that was just a crust, after all, over hot magma, churning around in currents and moving the pieces of the crust and sometimes spurting up in volcanoes and..

Then, out of nowhere, light and fresh air jumped at her senses, startled her to blinking her eyes open, very nearly crashing her mental image. And not just from surprise, that was minor, really, compared to the fact that it was Albus fucking Dumbledore, Fuck!

It was very, very quiet, Riko could practically hear her own, stuttering heartbeat as she forced herself to take an even breath and keep the image in her mind. The headmaster was looking quizzically at her along, not down – a notable difference that – his long, crooked nose, which, up close like this, looked to have been broken more than once, and not set very well. Riko stared back into his bright blue eyes, sparkling behind the gold-rimmed half-moon glasses. She refused to attribute to accident the way the light falling over her pond changed, not-hers again, and she also refused to talk first, that was never a good start, ever.

The slip into quicktime had been instinctive and the marble with “Hah, I was right” fell into the glittering currents of glass and water, reflecting like mad all the while a fine mist formed on the water. It covered the fish that deftly snapped a few of the buzzing thoughts and fell back in with a soft plop, turning into another marble, a heavier one, falling down and down. Out of sight, out of mind, that was the saying, no? And it was enough to keep up this.. upper storey picture, no need to think on geology now.

“Hm, the hat really seems to draw students, you are not the first, Miss Slyver, to be overtaken by curiosity with him,” Headmaster Dumbledore smiled, he seemed quite honestly amused but also a bit absent, like a few thousand thoughts were playing in the back of his mind. It was a lot like the times he’d seen but not pointed her out, and no less scary for it.

“Well, it’s the.. the precedent, I think?” she said, “Of it being used for the students, see, not like poking into someone’s things.. which I didn’t, you can ask them..” Riko gestured at the portraits, who were by now all looking, even those that pretended otherwise.

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully, his smile growing milder as it faded, yet the sentiment seemed to stay. It was the crinkling around the eyes, had to be, or maybe that odd hue that had slid into the light on her pond, like a half-imagined undercurrent.

“There is that, I suppose,” he said, “And as I understand there is often an element of uncertainty to young people, as they grow, leading them to question not only the world but also their place in it..”

“Ah.. no, really.. umm?” Riko was so startled she couldn’t keep the mist up on the water, not against the persistent rays of light, damnit. “Ah, that wasn’t it, though, not at all..”

And of course that increased the questioning cast of, well, everything about him, from his quizzically drawn eyebrows to his inquisitive looking inside her own bloody head! The buzzing of the insects increased as the cloud expanded from her outrage and assorted thoughts and she quickly lumped all content and views on mind-reading that were easily reached into a slew of algae, floating on the surface, stinking as fit the content.

“We, that is, the hat and I, we had a bad start, manner-wise, you know, first impressions..” Riko said and smiled up at him politely, with only her teeth, over her heart doing an impression of the Hogwarts Express steam engines. “Funny thing, y’see, I thought he’d been looking into my head, back then, and of course I didn’t appreciate that and it got a bit rude..”

“Really now,” hummed the headmaster and turned away with another small, absent-minded smile to put the hat back on the shelf. The image of her pond felt less.. illuminated, oddly enough, as he motioned for her to take a seat in the visitor’s chair in front of his giant desk.

“Yes, really,” Riko replied brightly despite her pulse roaring behind her eyes. “So I asked him about it now and we cleared it all up.”

She pictured the ungainly muck of algae catching fire where it was floating, diffusing into pale smoke and dark, heavy ash that sunk to the bottom of the pond as she looked at him across the wide expanse of desk. Riko wasn’t sure, and she wouldn’t assume, of course, but she thought the light in her mental image was quite her own now, or at least with no noticeable tints in it.

“That is of course good to hear,” Headmaster Dumbledore said mildly, a light twitch in his beard, as if he was stifling a smile - or wanted her to think so, his eyes still twinkling like fractured blue marbles in motion. Yeah, no way was she going to assume he was leaving her head alone.

“You do appear rather different, I have to say, to how I usually see you,” he said and, gods and spirits, from the layers in his light tone Riko was half inclined to call him a serpent.

A giant, flashy purple one, but dragons were great big serpents, too, after all, if also a bit odd. Overpowered too, which, yes, fit as well, and then another little fish jumped up to catch the thought that wanted to compare his tightly coiled aura to Darshu because, no, focus on the present! Not that she had the slightest clue what to reply to that, not without knowing even the first thing..

“What..” Riko bit her lips, not reassured in the least by his almost gleeful look, oddly reminiscent of Tony - and fish, plop, marble..

“What did Professor Snape say, you mean?” Headmaster Dumbledore inquired lightly. He’d put the tips of his long, thin fingers together, all he was missing was a fluffy white cat on his arm, and was aiming a penetrating, light-blue look over them as he, yet again, seemed to consider things that hopefully had nothing to do with her. “He informed me I was needed in my office,” he said, again in that light tone, and Riko felt the fine hair on her arms and neck stand up.

Damn him, he was clearly using those quotes to remind her of the debts of not being turned in back when. How, how the fuck was that sane, with him being the headmaster, to whom they would have been turned in! Or was he? Was he really? Or was he just having odd, odd dragon fun?

“From the looks of it I could have finished my sea bass after all, it will be cold when I get back and the lemon sauce is just no good rewarmed,” he sighed mournfully, drawing up memories of his faible for currants. “But alas, needs must, so, Miss Slyver, what do I have to deal with here?”

It was entirely absurd, the way he was asking her, because if he thought to draw up hidden reasons he’d be severely disappointed, and that could really be the only reason, right? Riko focused again on the image of the pond, only in a general fashion and, alright, on the reflections.

“Well, as you can see I am Ms Eohyrde for today,” Riko wet her lips but continued glibly. “There’s really not much to it, Ms Slyver is ill, just ask Madam Pomfrey, she’ll tell you. I heard it’s quite nasty so she can’t even have visitors, but she’s expected to be fine tomorrow, can happen to anyone so there’s really no reason to get worked up.”

At that point Riko had to take an even breath and swallow down the panic that tried to crawl up her throat, had to let the fish nudge up the relevant marbles, like Edie not being involved at all, and push down the ones that carried panic and tar and Professor Snape going off the deep end.

“Not over missing a single day of class,” Riko shrugged despite the stiff muscles in her back apparently trying to rip themselves apart by their own tension. “Of course Ms Eohyrde would strongly disagree with this sentiment any other day, but, well. Professor Flitwick clearly agrees with today’s views of today’s Ms Eohyrde, so, in regards to your question.. I have to admit I don’t have the slightest clue what I or you are supposed to be doing here.”

It was hard, very hard, to not let the pond ice over to match the flat, hard statement, so very close to her inner sentiment, but talk and head had to stay on different levels and Riko focussed on the base of her explanation to her head of house earlier, on the base of it all. Not a marble, that, but a hard, naturally formed crystal, of shifting colours, yes, but right now, in this matter, it was clear, like a berg crystal, German diamond, actual diamond, sharp, would cut anything shoved against it. Riko wasn’t sure if it even did anything, this focus, couldn’t know for sure if he was still sneaking peaks inside her head, if the light or the breeze over her pond were her own or if he was just that good at his tricks. The way he contemplated her had her freeze up in much the same way as Professor Snape’s freak-out earlier, and small wonder.

She wouldn’t back down though, no way in all the hells, and there were no other ways out of this, and just like that she was trapped. The word was quickly encased in dark, heavy glass and fell down, out of sight, but the fact remained. It turned into an ugly, unpleasant mist, clingy, and the insects in its vicinity grew cold and dropped into the water, sinking down, too. Still she stared back into those eyes that pretended to be open sky, even as her own mental image became mired in that freaky mist, jarring her focus with the ugly associations it called up. The growing cold and fog had conjured up a piece of tattered, black cloth. Riko couldn’t seem to find her pond any more, only knew she had to get rid of that, had to make it go away, had to derail this track before it got anywhere. Lightning flashed, only the bright, jagged lines visible, nothing else, nothing at all, only pure, safe darkness.

“You let her come!” the thunder boomed. No rain, no rain, no rain. Fire, bright, hot pillars of fire, roaring “You let her come!” and obliterating any traces of black cloaks that might have been anywhere near or even far. Gales of wind and storm lashing up the flames, howling and screaming a primal, panicked chorus of rage, “Fuck off! Fuck off! FUCK OFF!”

Her right eye twitched, and Riko realized she’d forgotten to breathe. She blinked properly, staring away over his shoulder, took a breath. Worked to unlock her aching jaw. Raised her chin just so.

“You did let her come,” was what she said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, yes, Severus is freaking out in all ways: on top of /everything/ that is /already wrong/, a student, and one of HIS, freezing-bracing like that, from him as much as against him.. not nice, I guess.  
> yeah, freaking out is rather the order of the day for far too many people in this chapter.. not helpful, and unfortunately not going to change soon.. =/


	13. And following the moon..

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ah, communication! such a nice, helpful thing, makes everything better right away, no? =)

The, what, thirty yards and dozens of people between the high table and their seats seemed to disappear in view of Snape’s sharp, cold stare, his expression distasteful as he poked the food on his plate. It was clearly aimed at them, as he was all the while looking their way, even while supposedly not doing so, lowered head and all. Amy was starting to get what had Vi in such a state, all of a sudden even she didn’t feel like talking any more. Was he even sane, with such a look?

“Do you..” Amy had to clear her throat and look away, hastily spearing a battered fish and dropping it on her plate for an excuse. “Do you think he’s y’know, stable? ’Cause he doesn’t look it..”

Vi, who had kept on staring back like it was a competition even when Snape had lowered his head over his plate, twitched. First her eyes did, then the corner of her mouth, and then she actually looked at Amy with the sort of expression she usually had when they were caught in an ambush. All frustration buried under sharp control and the fierce rush of gleefully hexing her opponents, right where it hurt, hitting back even if they still hadn’t managed to properly beat them even once. Then she too speared a fish onto her plate, and on the side not facing Snape touched her ear. Well, pulled some hair behind it, but it was clear enough and Amy could hardly stop herself from gaping.

“Well,” Vi said drily in her Fighting Fina voice, “do you know, I don’t think he is, really.”

Vi was still looking at her like that, all derangedly cheerful, and Amy couldn’t help the gaping then. “Vi!” she tried in a strangled voice.

“Well, you asked,” her friend kept on performing, “and I’m ever so glad you did, really, you’re officially fantastic, if I may be so bold to bend the phrase. But if you want reassurances you’re talking to the wrong person, ’cause I know crazy when I see it and, well, it’s sad, but maybe this year it won’t just be the Defence post to need a fresh recruit. Y’know, I heard there was a case where the Defence teacher got involved with someone..”

“Vi, stop, oh my bloody feckin’ goodness, are you mad?” Amy gasped, panicked at clearly being the only sane person in the entire castle.

“Well, if you’re asking like that, clearly the answer must be yes,” Vi huffed, but she relented, falling quiet.

On second thought Amy wasn’t sure what was worse, because now her friend was back to being so tense she seemed ready to implode. And she herself had asked the question, so really..

Amy sighed. “No, you’re not, or, well, not any sort of mad I wouldn’t join up in,” she said, “I don’t see what’s his problem anyway. Might do him good if it got to that, the git.”

She was rewarded with a look of such surprised, shy happiness, if only for the shortest moment, that she had the sudden urge to burn down anything that might threaten it, ever. Amy felt her face heat and smiled, then stared at her fish to order her mind. She’d always defend Vi, of course, but Amy’d never thought her competent and composed friend really needed it, past the part of making it less unfair against the Duck Squad. It was a bit scary, the idea.

“How long is he gone, now, do you know?” she said, because they had a situation here, beyond that, and also beyond Snape quite possibly surveillancing them, and definitely being a creeping menace. “I mean, the headmaster’s office is on the second floor, Harry said so, how long’d it take to..”

Amy felt a complete fool, jabbering on like that, but it seemed to help Vi get a grip, even if she answered mostly in grunts and huffs. Better than a repeat escalation, just in case Snape was actually really listening, which he surely wasn’t, surely, that would be insane. Not that he looked sane, right now, still glaring while supposedly ignoring them, honestly, but then Vi looked up sharply and suddenly took an actual, visible breath.

“Hey there, folks, Amy, could you scoot over please, ta,” Edie’s voice was a bit breathless and the tightness around her eyes was not something Amy had ever seen, most certainly not on their friendly Ravenclaw, but it didn’t stop the immense relief that rose up in her. She scooted, hastily.

“Ah, careful there, sorry, didn’t mean to be a hassle,” Riko pretty much nailed Edie, all apologetic and friendly, catching Amy’s bag as it made to topple from the sudden movement. It was a bit creepy, really, after an entire month, well, really over three months of no proper contact.

“Oh, ah.. no problem, really,” Amy managed with a smile she knew was nervous, strange, not herself, but, well, creepy, all of it, no two ways about it.

“Alright then,” Vi didn’t so much say, nor even ask, no infliction to indicate a question mark at all, as breathe out, in a strange neutral tone, wary and relieved at the same time. The Hufflepuff was also far less relaxed than just moments ago and, again, pulled some hair behind her ear. “Got what you wanted? Lunch’s almost over, y’know, we were getting a bit worried for you there..”

“Oh, yah, alright, all settled,” Riko edie-d on, doing embarrassed and reassuring just as creepily well. She also shot a careful look in the direction of Snape from her cover behind Amy and then hastily demanded “that bowl with taters over there, please?” It was still eerie but it drew in Megan and Peter who’d already been set to leave, like most people, really.

Bit worried, indeed, they’d been just a step from marching up to the headmaster’s office. But the two chatty Hufflepuffs cheerily interrogating ‘Edie’ what she’d even wanted from Snape and then why had she had to run up to the Eyry, was a good distraction. Unless you thought about how on earth Riko could answer them so well.

“Amy, you got Snape now, right?” Vi interrupted her thoughts, and Amy knew that Vi knew that perfectly well. “Better make sure you’re not late or anything,” her friend added and, oh, goodness, crap and _carps_ , that was a valid point, or pointed at one, and all the attached.. bloody _hells.._

Amy caught Harry and Ron still at the table, towed them down without delay, and then had to suffer through the usual antics as they had to wait in the corridor while the Slytherins arrived around them. During roll call, upon reaching Slyver, Snape announced coldly Madam Pomfrey had already informed him directly and then proceeded to be a complete nightmare to any and all Gryffindors while completely ignoring the Slytherins. By the end of the lesson Amy was ready to run screaming from the dungeons and it was, more or less, what she did. Well, minus the screaming. She’d been helping Neville again, and it was all she could do to keep quiet and still give him some pointers while Snape eyed them like something that crawled up from under a stone and shouldn’t have.

As soon as Snape announced the end of the lesson she and Neville were the first out the door. They reached the Defence classroom faster even than Dean and Seamus, Amy had been so distracted she’d just dragged Neville along through her shortcuts. When they arrived at the door it was, of course, closed, at which point Amy suddenly had the urge to bash her head against it. Of _course_ it’d be closed, even if they were a bit early. Obviously Professor Lupin wouldn’t be up to teaching, at best he’d be in about the same state as he’d been on the train ride, _ugh_. With a groan she let her head thump on the wood of the door.

“Er, are you alright, Hermione?” Neville said, “I won’t.. er.. tell anyone? About the shortcuts?”

“No,” Amy sighed, “err, sorry, that’s not what I meant, but thank you. I mean, yes, I’m alright, just, ah, remembered something I’d forgot..”

“Oh,” Neville said, “I know that feeling really well. Nothing too bad, I hope?”

“Hah, ah, no no, it’s nothing.. ah.. important, really,” Amy said quickly, glad her hair was open and keeping her burning face against the door.

“..Alright,” Neville said and managed with one meek word to make her feel twice as tired and thrice as bad as Ron couldn’t with one of his extended rants about his poor stupid rat.

They were quiet while the rest of the class showed up, first of course the Ravenclaws. Small wonder, they were coming down from Transfigs. With them appeared a Riko who seemed more at ease in her Edie disguise. Not fine, no, but at least ‘under the weather’ could now be used and not be the euphemism of the month, hah. Greeted by not only a cheery “Hey there!” but also a growling from her friend’s stomach Amy couldn’t stop herself from fondly rolling her eyes.

“Did you actually eat anything at lunch?” she said, scooting over so they could both lean against the wall by the door. “You didn’t really have much time there, with Transfigs right after..”

Of course she hadn’t, and Amy was further relieved when her insane friend admitted it and accepted the offered nuts and dried fruits she had taken to keeping in her bag. It was just smart, and Finny hadn’t minded, was in fact now always asking if she needed a refill. It also clearly helped as Riko’s, well, Edie’s colour improved and she proceeded to relax, less still and tense and more in the spirit of pranking queen, at risk to wink and start to belt out made-up lyrics to a certain Abba hit, rather than to keel over without warning.

“He’s a bit late, isn’t he? Hey, maybe it’s cancelled and we can start on homework right away,” Riko nudged her, giddy humour dancing in her eyes, when it got to the point when Professor Lupin usually showed up. (always ten minutes early, except for that first practical lesson)

That started a flurry of whispers and conversation, all delighted to let the weekend start early, as if they wouldn’t have to catch up the missed content later. Over the next few minutes Amy couldn’t even count just how often she heard people wonder if he’d been at lunch, or breakfast. Then all of a sudden silence spread through the corridor, and when she looked over Amy understood why Riko had suddenly drawn backwards to not stand directly by the door. Stalking towards them like a mutated cross between a bat and a murderous storm crow was Professor Snape. Riko and Neville had practically turned into statues, looking everywhere else but him, so Amy made to stand as a wall before them. Harry in contrast stepped forward, right into Snape’s way as he reached the door and unlocked it with a dismissive flick of his wand.

“Where’s Professor Lupin?” Harry said, and Amy could actually _feel_ the temperature plummet around them.

“He says he is feeling too ill to teach today,” said Snape, black eyes glittering with a twisted smile. “Now let you fellows enter the classroom.”

But Harry stayed where he was. “What’s wrong with him?”

Her fine hair was standing up at the face that drew up on the potions master and she shot a furious look at Ron. He was watching, pale with shock at the development and not interfering, but at her look he moved to draw Harry aside. Of course Snape didn’t let it go even so.

“Nothing life-threatening,” he said, looking as though he wished it was. “Now, five points from Gryffindor, and if we are delayed in starting the lesson it will be a point per student per minute.”

No one dared to dally as they streamed into the room and to their seats while Snape looked over them with a rancour that topped even the one from Potions earlier. Amy had never regretted so much her tendency to sit in the front as when his attention caught on Riko’s silent and stiff ghost impression of Edie, her eyes fixed stubbornly on the desk.

“Ah, Miss Eohyrde,” he said, “As regards your potion, it’s still a fail, as is Miss Slyver’s. You should keep that in mind the next time you consider going overboard on _just helping out a friend_.”

“Of course,” Riko replied down at her desk, then added “sir”, quiet and neutral and just.. dead.

“I’m sure Miss Slyver can’t help being ill and this isn’t Potions, is it,” Amy said before she could stop herself, then almost swallowed her tongue.

“Quite,” Snape glared at her, a look of such clinical distaste, over layers and layers of murderous temper, that she was glad when he chose to ignore her a moment later.

“Professor Lupin has not left any record of the topics you have covered so far,” he started and Amy lost it, again, but, honestly, this was just beyond! Because if Professor Lupin had asked him to be their substitute then he would have told him, for sure. Even if it _were_ an unforeseen illness, which it wasn’t after all, not in the _least_.

“Sir, we’ve done Boggarts, Kappas, and Red Caps,” she said quickly, “and we’re just about to start..”

“Be quiet,” said Snape coldly. “I did not ask for information. I was merely commenting on Professor Lupin’s lack of organisation.”

“He’s the best Defence teacher we’ve ever had,” interrupted Dean boldly, and the a murmur of agreement from the rest of the Gryffindor side of the class was a relief, let her resolve to bite her tongue from now.

“You are easily satisfied,” Snape diagnosed acidly, looking somehow more menacing than even during lunch. “Lupin is hardly on track. I would expect first-years to be able to deal with Red Caps and Grindylows. Today we shall discuss..” and he flicked through the textbook, to the very back chapter, “..werewolves.”

Even Riko sharply kicking her foot couldn’t make Amy bite her lips on that one, because this went past any sort of reasonable, and he was a teacher, he couldn’t just..!

“But, sir,” she said, “we’re not supposed to do werewolves yet, we’re due to start Hinkypunks and..”

“Miss Granger,” interrupted Snape, in a voice of cold, deadly calm, “I was under the impression that I was taking this lesson, not you. And I am telling you all to turn to page three hundred and ninety-four.” He glanced around again. “All of you! Now!”

With many bitter sidelong looks and some sullen muttering, the class opened their books.

“Amy, please,” Riko hissed intently beside her.

“Which of you can tell me how we distinguish between the werewolf and the true wolf?” said Snape.

Everyone sat in dead, motionless silence, Riko beside her didn’t even seem to breathe. And she didn’t want to make this worse, really, but if nobody said anything he could just.. and if she said it right, then.. Amy raised her hand straight up.

“Anyone?” Snape said, wilfully ignoring her, the deranged git. His twisted smile was back, making her skin crawl. “Are you telling me that Professor Lupin hasn’t even taught you the basic distinction between..”

“We told you,” said Parvati suddenly, giving Amy a moment of bright, spiking hope, “we haven’t got as far as werewolves yet, we’re still on..”

“Silence!” snarled Snape, and _damn_ it, so much for that. “Well, well, well, I never thought I’d meet a third-year class who wouldn’t even recognise a werewolf when they saw one. I shall make a point of informing Professor Dumbledore how very behind you all are..”

“Sir,” Amy said, hand still in the air, “the common werewolf differs from the true wolf in several small ways. The snout of the werewolf..”

“That is the third time you have spoken out of turn, Miss Granger,” said Snape coolly. “Five more points from Gryffindor for being an insufferable know-it-all.”

In the sudden silence Amy took a deep breath and put her hand flat on the table, not looking to see anyone’s reaction. She really didn’t need to see them biting their tongues to keep from agreeing, she got to hear it often enough already. Riko beside her put her elbow and leg against Amy’s in sympathy and it was that which really threw her, made her blink, made her face burn, because Riko had told, no, had begged her to keep quiet and..

“You asked us a question and she knows the answer!” Ron’s loud voice broke the moment,”Why ask if you don’t want to be told?”

Ron, who called her that at least twice a week in all seriousness, not even jokingly. It had her draw a sharp breath and let it out slowly, quietly, not a sob, even if her eyes stung. It was entirely quiet again, because that’d been too far, Snape wouldn’t take that as anything but offence. He advanced on Ron slowly, and the room held its breath; Amy dared only look from the corner of her eyes, obscured under her hair.

“Detention, Weasley,” Snape said silkily, his face very close to Ron’s. “And if I ever hear you criticise the way I teach a class again, you will be very sorry indeed.”

No one made a sound throughout the rest of the lesson. They sat and made notes on werewolves from the textbook, while Snape prowled up and down the rows of desks, examining the work they had been doing with Professor Lupin.

“Very poorly explained … that is incorrect, the kappa is more commonly found in Mongolia … Professor Lupin gave this eight out of ten? I wouldn’t have given it three..”

When the bell rang at last, Snape held them back.

“You will each write an essay, to be handed in to me, on the ways you recognise and kill werewolves. I want two rolls of parchment on the subject, and I want them by Monday morning. It is time somebody took this class in hand. Weasley, stay behind, we need to arrange your detention.”

Amy and Riko left the room with the rest of the class, who waited until they were well out of earshot, then burst into a furious tirades about Snape, even the Ravenclaws. Amy was uncommonly glad for Harry’s tendency to keep less of a distance to Edie than to the other Untouchables since he was much like a repellent for most Ravenclaws, and a few of them seemed curious why Edie had failed her potion.

“Snape’s never been like this with any of our other Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers, even if he did want the job,” Harry was saying, “Why’s he got it in for Lupin? D’you think this is all because of the boggart?”

“I don’t know,” said Amy, very aware of the pale, silent not-quite-Edie beside her. “But I really hope Professor Lupin gets better soon..”

“Eh, might be some advanced head cold or maybe it’s a bad constellation thing. There’s all sorts of cosmic rays that might affect a person, did you know, not just the moon or planets, maybe he’s allergic to some of them.. Snape I mean,” Riko said and she really was, at best, at 50% Edie now, her voice sharply, unreasonably cheerful, shoulders drawn tense, back straight.

“Edie, really,” Amy said, suddenly nervous Harry might catch just how unusual the supposed Ravenclaw was acting.

“Ah, yes, sorry, I’m sure it’s nothing too bad with Lupin,” her friend shot her an apologetic smile that almost fit. “Listen, I’ll nail our library table while you’re waiting here for Weasley, alright? I need to swing by a loo anyway, and Vi’ll probably be late, with her detour to the first floor.”

“Oh,” Amy said, and “sure.” because Harry was standing right next to them.

She didn’t know what she’d expected, but Riko doing a runner hadn’t been it, not after all that effort. But her friend had signed a casual “not” there, and that seemed to be it, leaving Amy, again, stumped at the sheer amount, not to mention flavour, of unreasonableness at work in her friend’s brain. And then, with a small wave, she was gone round the corner, leaving them in gloomy silence.

Ron caught up with them a minute later, in a towering rage, cursing to rival Riko on a slow day. Snape had him scrub out the bedpans in the hospital wing by hand. When he caught her stricken look he quickly waved it off, ears growing red and unable to even look at her.

“Can’t be worse’n that damn trophy room Filch had me do, I bet Madam Pomfrey keeps it all clean enough to eat out of anyway,” he told the nearest picture frame, a landscape of a bog.

“Well, I wouldn’t be surprised by it at all,” Amy replied weakly, shooting Harry an irritated look because he was still just watching silently. “I’ll see you two in the common room then, might be a good plan to start your homework early for once, hm?”

Of course they only groaned, but they’d both deserved that, and it cleared the air, _and_ was also a fact, even if they wouldn’t listen. First thing she did after rounding the corner was obscure herself and lean against the wall to take a deep breath. If Riko thought Amy’d just let her run off again then she had another thing coming, and even with the dismal everything of this year she still knew enough of her friend to start a chase. The closest loo, not by normal architecture or even flying bird but by stepping round and through a few rather escher-esque corners and arches, seemed echoingly empty as she entered, which meant she’d been right, specially with the chill and vibes of not-welcome that had the hair on her arms stand up.

Amy closed her eyes and stepped back against the door to prevent any escape this way, then focused inwards. The seal wasn’t the problem, no harder than Spock’s Vulcan greeting if you trained a bit, but the attached trick was hard, even if you faked it with more magic than shift. Riko’d made an embarrassed face and declared it “really loud, Amy”, but it worked; and Amy wasn’t the one sneaking and hiding so she really couldn’t be bothered, especially not now. Everything remained quiet even after her ping, so maybe she wasn’t that even that loud. When Amy opened the unlocked, positively disused-seeming stall, already knowing Riko was there, she was still surprised. Not so much that it was unlocked, if a suspicious person wanted to check the stall they could and still not find anything amiss, but at the complete lack of reaction.

Then she actually saw Riko, huddled between the wall and the toilet and curled in on herself like she wanted to press her back into the wall and disappear in it. She didn’t react at all, and as Amy stepped inside, across the only-then-visible chalk line, Amy saw, or rather heard, the reason. Her friend hadn’t even noticed her because for some reason she wasn’t breathing right. Eyes clenched shut, hands fisted in messy snarls of white hair, Riko’s mouth was moving but the only sound was disjointed rasps that couldn’t be called breathing by any stretch of imagination. Just looking at it had Amy freeze, unpleasant memories rearing up. But _she could_ breathe, took an involuntary one right there, and she had to help.

Only how, certainly not like last year, keeping calm was key, she knew that, or at least fake it, what with how her heart was hammering, alright, but what then? Symptoms. Riko wasn’t breathing and either in pain or terribly scared. All the First Aid books said to calmly talk to a person and see if they could even take note of stimuli, try to get them to help you. Talking didn’t help, gently gripping her friend didn’t either, not that it was easy, the toilet in the way like that.

Which, well, it _was_ water, and cold, and Amy refused to think on any further tangents. It got her a reaction at last, yes, but the incoherent yell only started her work, and it wasn’t fast work, not at all. The yell and its aftermath showed that Riko was hyperventilating, or at least something like it, and it was unreasonably hard to stay calm and still have Riko pay attention and start to breath properly, because it meant Amy herself had to breath right and still talk and be calm.

In short, it was horrible. Riko kept closing her eyes and going off elsewhere, and then, when Amy was almost certain they had it, more certain than the last two times, her friend suddenly jerked forward, eyes screwed shut again, to start retching. Into the loo, luckily, but the shivering and heaving left Amy thrown, again, gave her a hard time not falling into panicked questioning, because, yes, she was self-aware enough to know that.

That meant she could handle it, though, if she could notice it like that, so Amy kept mumbling calm, reassuring phrases, and her hand on the shaking shoulders of her miserable friend. Helped open the school robes and keep them out of the way, flushed, held what was to hold, flushed again.

“Sorry,” Riko croaked after a while during which nothing further had surfaced, past her laboured breath and shaking.

Amy sighed, because as relieved as she was her friend was better now, Riko was still obviously ill, and from her tone and obvious signal of retreat not going to be reasonable about it. Or about anything, really, what a surprise, and what the hell was Amy to do about it now, or even say to that?

“Ta, really, seriously even, but shouldn’t you go meet Vi at the hospital wing?” Riko said in the stretching silence, leaning back against the wall.

“I should take you there, and not even just for being obviously ill,” Amy said, stung by the way Riko was distancing herself, again, when they hadn’t seen each other properly in forever.

She only managed to not ask what Riko was even sorry for because of how miserably ill she looked and sounded, voice barely more than a scratchy rasp and shivering all over still. Not that it stopped her friend from rolling her eyes, and looking twice as ill in the process.

“Amy, sorry, but you really should. Go, I mean. We need to know what’s wrong, and I am most certainly not going, and you can’t just leave Vi..”

“And why not,” Amy asked, growing irritated, “and I mean either! Of course I’m not going to leave Vi alone but I really should, after you two didn’t say a thing! And why would you not go there, you’re so obviously ill it’s ridiculous, and after all that effort you went through..”

“Firstly, I’m not ill,” Riko interrupted with a scoff, proving she was indeed entirely mental, “and secondly I didn’t go to all that effort to pester Edie when _she’s_ ill, right. I, well, _we_ ’re going to all that effort so this miserable fucker Lupin won’t spell the end of her Hogwarts career.”

For a moment Amy could only gape and they were just staring at each other across the toilet. But well, of course, Riko was always like that; give her something to argue and she’d just keep going. Which really explained everything about their current mess, didn’t it, or at least most all..

“Fine,” Amy said, despite nothing being fine at all. It worked, though, had Riko lean her head back against the wall where she’d been all set to jump into action earlier. “You really should bring me up-to-date though, that way I can help Vi better, even if I’m late..”

The fond look that got her was like a sudden flare of light, illustrating by it’s contrast just how off, how guarded Riko had been, even in that miserable state. Amy pushed the thought away and took the chance presented by her friend’s momentary surprise, and the following flicker of a wry smile, the dry teasing. “Ah, Amy-chan, mercury over mane, here, eh..”

*

Vi was a literal step from pacing and that was just unacceptable. Pacing got people killed in the end. It was a bad habit and most certainly not on in an ongoing op, once you started you were caught up in a never-ending circle, a downward spiral, lowering your attention and distracting you from important environmental input while you descended into ever-increasing nerves in your own head. Not. On. At all. Amy being late could mean anything, would mean nothing, would mean it _was_ nothing, nothing too bad at least. If it was something big that stopped her, that took long, then surely she’d use the timeturner, because this was Edie, after all, it would trump even the massive hang-up McGonagall had planted in Amy’s head. Something about responsible fairness or whatever, Vi hadn’t managed to get a decent explanation yet.

Restraining any sound of her _massive_ annoyance only on sheer routine, hah, and who’d have thought she’d need that level of it here, gods and spirits indeed, this entire year was fucked up, anyway, keeping still while a spring inside seemed to tighten ever further, Vi started again her focus on, tsk, _un_ focused staring, since it was the best way to get the third form of Obscurantis to work without burning out her eyes or exploding her head. It took four weekend-bound stragglers wandering through for Amy to show up at last, and she almost did literally show up, despite the Obscurantis around her. Clearly she was in a right temper, and she had Edie’s bag. So maybe it wasn’t nothing.

“You two are beyond mad,” Amy hissed in greeting as she stepped straight into their usual alcove, staring at Vi’s favourite spot and thus finding her. “And Snape needs to have his everything hexed off and set on fire, that bloody boil on the ass of humanity! What were you even thinking!”

Gritting down on any potential answer, even the resigned sigh trying to escape, Vi quickly drew a line, pushing in her charm as soon her wand had reached the wall and standing just as quickly because crouching by an angry Gryff, even if it was Amy, was just.. just not good.

“What,” she said, well, demanded; not a question, not in the mood for that. “Why do you have that bag and what’s wrong.”

Amy took a deep breath, one that usually prepended a full steam train of a rant, but this time she just growled and took another, calmer one before starting. This had to be so bad, bloody shite, Vi automatically took a bracing breath as well, leaned back against the wall.

“We don’t have the time for me to explain just how mad you all are,” Amy ground out, “but if you ever do anything like that again I’ll.. just.. don’t. Riko is in no state to be any more of Edie today, it’ll be you or me, she was just sick and.. and ill, and that bloody fucking _Snape_..”

Vi’s eyebrows were trying to crawl up under her hat; she’d never heard Amy get like that, not even over her much-despised Divination moth. But there she was, cutting herself off again, clearly from further ranting, breathing deep and gripping her hair as if taming it would help her temper.

“Is she alright? Amy, come on, what’s going on? She was alright after third, what happened?” Vi said, hoping questions would work. They usually did after all.

“Hah, of course she’s _alright_ , that.. and she’s not telling, again, it must be really scary, whatever Snape did, she had a bloody _breakdown_ but of course she’s _alright_ , just gonna hole up somewhere, no prob, know what she said, ‘well, he asked and I said no’ and shrugs! I just..”

“Amy,” Vi sighed, “properly. Please? Madam Pomfrey’s probably wondering where we are, and Edie too.”

“Fine,” Amy scathed, suddenly scarily calm, after another deep breath with her jaw clenched in an alarmingly Riko-esque way. “I sent Riko off to get better because she refused coming here. I had to threaten her to take some time off or we’d sit on her and drag her here otherwise. And we had Snape in Defence, and he did werewolves, and the rest can wait. Let’s go.”

And with that her friend just stepped out of the alcove, heading for the door of the hospital wing, back straight and stride wide, still ready for a war, or maybe even wanting one. And, mind whirling even with the quicktime, Vi could understand _that_ at least, perfectly.

Madam Pomfrey was distracted and tight-lipped as she not so much welcomed them in, as would have been usual, but rather accepted their presence in a worried, disapproving way. When she said “Only shortly,” it wasn’t her usual tolerant tone, either. Then they stepped around the screen.

Edie looked terrible, pale and ill and worse than Vi could remember her ever looking, even with her blanket drawn up so much you could only see her face. Then she opened her eyes and Vi almost took a step back. Amy didn’t, stepped up to the bed while Vi froze, taking a deep breath.

“Save it,” Edie rasped, “I already had Snape for a visitor earlier.”

That shocked even Amy out of her crisis composure and Vi felt the blood drain from her face, faintly ill herself now. Was that what had Riko in such a state? But Amy had clearly not known yet..

“Edie..” Vi tried to explain, to apologize, Merlin, Snape really was the _worst_ , was there anything he _hadn’t_ fucked up today?

“No,” Edie said, calmly, her eyes glinting flat, hard brass in their fatigue-darkened sockets even as her voice broke and tears gathered, threatening to fall. “I don’t want to hear it.”

Vi closed her mouth, suddenly couldn’t put up even the resistance of staring back any more just from how cold and exhausted she was. Of course it was worse than they’d thought, everything was, and this.. Edie looked the same sort of broken as that fucked up first day of the year – only worse, both in health and enmity. A cold shiver ran down her spine as she dropped into quicktime on instinct, not that it helped any, hadn’t then either, story of her life, wasn’t it.

“Amy didn’t know,” Vi told the screen beside her as she turned away and “Sorry,” admittedly more in the spirit of having it said, but, well.

As she walked over to Madam Pomfrey, away from her friends, it was remarkably easy to slip into, no, to keep up her Drake manners, she wasn’t going to be a bother for the mediwitch after all, she was going to distract her from them and hopefully get some info, too, be practical, as usual. Unsurprisingly Madam Pomfrey was not very helpful with either of those goals but her clipped remarks on Snape started another train of thought, and Vi was sure that the mediwitch was prepared now, if one of her own housemates came to check if she was here. No point dragging Amy into this, and with Edie already set to throw down on her there was really no point in going half-assed all of sudden. Then she waited outside, poking at the thought Madam Pomfrey had brought up.

There wasn’t enough data, yet, but there were hints, if she looked at it from that point of view. Everyone really was being themselves in spades, caricatures of themselves almost, merde, even she herself. She’d have to check, watch everyone now, properly, with this in mind. Maybe ask Amy at some point, when her friend wasn’t killing herself with homework, and in the mean time see if she could do some actual research. Vi was almost sure she was missing something, not on the dementors but something, somewhere in the context, just out of reach..

By the time Amy stepped into the corridor Vi was pacing but that was alright. They were past active op and she’d been busy thinking up different ways of handling this, all of this, and if her immediate action (asking questions but harmless ones) had more than one goal beside putting her friend at ease, like testing if it really did, like keeping it all practical, saving her from direct social conflict.. what of it?

Of course that worked only for so long with Amy, but that couldn’t be helped. The next best thing, in that new view at least, was answering questions, and was much harder, by far. It was still nothing to how much sense Amy made with her critique of their plan and it’s execution. Even with Amy’s reassuring “Just talk to her tomorrow, properly,” or maybe because of it, Vi was left in a daze, stranded on their couch and staring unseeingly at the ceiling until it was time to be Edie for dinner. Amy was coming along for this, and Vi couldn’t even say how grateful she was.

Homework in the library afterwards, she decided, and visibly so, else what was the point. No hide nor hair to be seen of Riko, which, alright, made sense with her officially in the hospital wing until tomorrow, but still. In the Eyry she curtly answered the few questions she didn’t want Edie to have to deal with, mostly about Snape’s bullshit during Defence, and Vi really agreed with Amy, that wanker needed to be hexed, and badly. Then she made for an early bed and spent most of the night again awake, tossing and turning and too damn exhausted to actually sleep.

Saturday morning had Vi freeze in a damn panic and Amy go in alone for the few minutes Madam P allowed, and that only after breakfast. They holed up at their hidden table in the library, Amy’s dried fruit and nuts allowing Vi to blissfully ignore the time and lunch passing them by as they buried themselves in books and dictionaries, quotes and calculation charts. But the time came when Vi was finished. “Vi,” Amy said when she made to unroll her essay for Astronomy, not due until Wednesday, to read it over for the third time. “Go on.”

The way to the hospital wing was far too short, even after Vi had made sure to return all the books not needed any more on their table to their original spots. Of course she had Obscurantis up, with Fina so active again and her own supposed stay in the hospital wing, but then Vi rounded the corridor to find that damn Lupin leaving Madam P’s domain. The careful way he was drawing the door closed after him made clear he shouldn’t be here, and set off all the alarms in her head.

“What,” Vi demanded, not even able to enjoy the way he twitched and barely managing to not snarl or curse at him, “are _you_ doing here.”

She regretted her outburst immediately. He was about as hard to faze as Snape, almost as hard to read, and instead of an answer she got again one of his creepy stares. Vi could handle being observed, she had lots of experience, but his deceptively mild analysis raised all her heckles.

“Miss Drake,” he greeted her, _greeted_ , still all mild and pleasant, and he was good, didn’t just smile with his teeth, but Vi had been watching people since forever, since well before that.. that matter, and she knew well enough the different ways eyes narrowed, Merlin’s balls.

“You heard me,” she raised her chin and didn’t stop her advance. So what if he was creeping her out, what had he done in there, with Edie!

“Hm, that’s an interesting set of manners you have there,” Lupin kept to his mild, commenting tone, pissing her off even further.

“Oh, I think they fit perfectly, _sir_ ,” Vi said, putting as much insult in her tone as she’d ever heard from her mother and Snape combined.

He was between her and the door, and not moving, and with a flick she had her wand in hand, not raised but ready. They were almost toe-to-toe now but she’d be damned before she backed down. Instead she started a quiet Argentissimo, drawing out the circle to keep it on her wand tip.

“Now, if you’d be so good to make way,” she smiled pointedly with only her teeth, “before there’s school-wide commentary on your silver tongue..”

And that had him still, had him lose his mild look, eyes flickering to her wand and over her, focusing in a rather colder stare, eyebrows drawn up in a way that was not quite as fake as the rest of his overly controlled manners. Vi raised an eyebrow of her own, tilted her head just so, her wand warm and ready. He stared for another moment, then sketched her a classical bow, stepping to the side to allow her access to the door, his entire manners sharper and on edge now.

“Well along in the family tradition, I see, Miss Drake,” he said so quietly she barely heard it, with that fake courteous nod and a smile so cold and sharp it could have been one of Snape’s bitter split-second blade-flashes of no mirth at all.

If Vi hadn’t already, at seeing him, then she’d certainly have slipped into quicktime at that, her already adrenaline-quickened heart pounding in her temples. But really, he had given away more of himself than she had, with this, and Vi had managed to keep sane since forever, and he had no clue at all.

“Ah, yes, you and Snape really compliment each other,” she answered with raw hatred burning in her guts but in a clear tone, one she knew carried perfectly in corridors. “But keeping your distance where you’re not wanted is still the civilized thing, so I guess I can only wish you luck.”

Then she was past him and the door closed and she could lean against it, activating the privacy pebble from her pocket so he wouldn’t get the satisfaction of hearing her almost explode or break down. More importantly, she had to make sure Edie was alright, and she couldn’t do that when she wasn’t focused and in control, so she drew up her mindset for crisis, glad to feel herself cool down immediately, even physically. She knew well enough how loud a pulse could be, after all, or how very distinctive smells were even two days after. A charm took care of that, even if left her cold as she made her way to the screens in the back, she could go over what just happened later, Madam P wasn’t here, and why not, and..?

“Well, hello,” Edie greeted her with a voice that was still too raspy for how long she’d been here. But she was here, in her bed, looking better than yesterday, unharmed and undisturbed, considering who had just closed the door as if he were leaving a crime scene. Vi almost sighed.

“I see you met my previous visitor,” Edie said and Vi had to take breath to try and adapt, it was so much like, and then far worse than, beginning of first year, polite and guarded and wary.

But they were talking, Edie was talking to her, and then Vi got to the actual words and was again thrown. “You heard us?” she croaked.

“Just the start,” Edie shrugged and waved her over. Vi obliged automatically, then put the pebble on the bedside table and took a polite step back. Left it up to her friend to keep the use up while showing its range. Edie let out a tolerant huff and waved her closer again.

“Must’ve been something, you’re in full crisis mode,” Edie commented when Vi didn’t speak, which didn’t help at all, not in the slightest.

“I’m sorry,” Vi said, ignoring the comment, set on keeping it together. She wasn’t going to let Lupin mess that up, it was bad enough already.

“We shouldn’t have done that, not tell you and let you think we agreed with your.. your view, I’m sorry, I get it, Amy said..” Edie’s look was cool and assessing and Vi was more nervous than she could recall being with her family, ever, because there she knew the works, but this..

“We broke your trust,” she said, “again, after last month, and we.. I should’ve told you properly, why and what, and convinced you right and..”

“That would have been better,” Edie said, still and serious and distanced, “but how about respecting my decision, at the end of that well-meaning talk of what you can and want and are going to do, as my friend, hm..?”

Vi was quiet, bit her lip, because of course Edie wouldn’t just stop in the middle of a problem, she’d follow it to the end, lay it all out.

“Huh, there we go, then,” Edie’s voice was dry and bitter, “Y’know, I’m actually surprised Riko isn’t with you, trying to spin it as a favour..”

“Not on, Edie,” Vi warned, arms crossed now, barely managing to not call her out on overreacting, only because of Amy’s rant yesterday.

“Really,” Edie countered, uncharacteristically sharp. “How can you call yourself my friend and still think it alright to ignore my decisions, mine, Vi, alright, I am not your pet to keep here no matter what! You don’t get to make decisions for me like I’m some commodity you want to keep!”

“Oh, do shut up already, Circe’s bloody bowl!” Vi threw up her hands, aggravated, already regretting the words but unable to stop herself, just like home. “We said we’d keep your secret, we _promised_ , d’ya think we won’t? It’s your decision, alright! If you actually _decide_ , to leave Hogwarts, fine, you can! We’re just making sure it really is! Cause it’ll come out, with Lupin, stop pretending it won’t, he’ll be lucky to last the year as is, and when it does, what d’ya think’ll happen to you? Think people will forget you were ‘ill’ all the same days? What are you thinking, what’d ya expect t’happen, huh?”

Edie was staring now, mouth open, but Vi wasn’t at home and acting as shield, wasn’t obliged respect her elders in this or-else, and if her friend was going to be unreasonable then she didn’t have to just accept it.

“I’ve had enough of this martyr bullshit and I don’t know what Dumbledore is thinking, but it’s plain irresponsible, kindly _tolerating_ us while ignoring the entire mess is not what his fucking job is for _or_ about, and letting Snape run amok like that, I’ve had it, up to here! We broke your trust, I _get_ it, I’m sorry, I really am, but you don’t get to put that on me, or on Riko, when we’re just making sure you _can_ decide!”

Then, at last, Vi managed to bite her tongue, crossing her arms and jutting her jaw out defiantly, because if she was already exploding at her friend she wasn’t going school her pose, wasn’t going to be a sodding Drake about this. They stared at each other for a few, silent moments.

“Well, then,” Edie said then, drily, “You’ve been so quiet and stoic all year, I suppose I should be glad you’re being honest now.”

It was like a slap, no, a kick in the guts, but Vi kept quiet, clearly she’d messed up enough already. Besides, it was hard to breathe right now. Frustration did that.

“Vi,” Edie said after another moment of silence, and her tone was strange, less dry and more worried. Vi didn’t blink, that would’ve been hard, or rather embarrassing, with her eyes burning like that despite not being too dry at all. Disadvantage of not containing it properly, merde.

“Right, sorry,” she said, her voice sounding strange to her own ears as she turned away, set to collect her pebble and flee. Fuck, this was embarrassing, with Edie’s senses bound to be still overly sharp, showing her like that, Vi didn’t need any fucking pity to have her point..

“Vi, no, come on, I didn’t mean.. I just.. your argument’s not sane or.. or making sense, and I know I’ve been a right pest this month, Vi, please..”

Edie’s voice was watery and when she looked over, Vi saw her friend had wet lashes, the thin white scar on her shaking forearm still visible, just so, as she reached to her bed table, to guard the pebble. To stop Vi from leaving, it seemed. She clearly hadn’t minded blinking with wet eyes. Vi was completely out of her depth here, she realized. How was she supposed to handle this, gutted and exhausted as she was, or trust this reprieve, when she knew Edie knew how upset she was and knew that Edie was all but a walking embodiment of sympathy and understanding!

“Well, my points are still better than yours,” she tried, “and you weren’t a pest, really, it wasn’t that bad, and I’m sorry I was so quiet and all..” Vi vaguely waved a hand, not even sure just how exactly she had been, probably too much Drake containment? With the other she quickly cleared her eyes. Anything else would be ridiculous, what with how obvious it’d obviously been, and with this whole scenario already so mind-numbingly scary she didn’t need to be ridiculous, too, to underline just how far out of depth she was with this whole direct.. this personal.. this entire mess.

“Right,” Edie huffed, rolling her eyes and leaning back in bed, leaving the pebble alone now but still looking wary, and also still wan and ill.

“I think Amy would diagnose us both.” Vi said, her gallows humour kicking in at last. “Either as off-the-wall mad or too thick in the head to breathe..”

The corners of Edie’s mouth raised at that, her entire mien softening even further. “She might be nicer about the wording, but, yeah, I guess..”

Their precarious, promising moment of two-sided, slightly relaxed awkwardness was promptly interrupted by Madam P’s arrival. They both hurriedly gathered themselves but even so the mediwitch was casting suspicious, downright grumpy, looks over them, and asked what Vi was doing here, unscheduled visit and all that hogwash, in a voice they hadn’t heard from her since first year, put-upon and not tolerant at all.

Which didn’t mean Vi was in the mood to take that lying down, not with how this was after all the hospital wing, Pomfrey’s own domain, meaning it was her business to look after it, which should really include keeping that bloody Lupin away from Edie when she was still recuperating..

Which didn’t mean Vi got to air her opinion, though, despite being more than ready for it. Not with Edie, Edie who was clearly trying very hard, interfering right off the bat.

“Terribly sorry, Madam Pomfrey,” Edie smiled her best smile of teacher-appeasement, the one that always worked because Edie really _was_ always honestly, terribly, and embarrassedly sorry when she had to use it. “But you said I get to leave today and I was well enough, really, and Lupin showed up first, uninvited even, unlike Vi, and she just wanted to give me the assignments and notes, so I can head straight to bed when I leave..”

Even Madam Pomfrey, who could be a right dragon if prompted, was no match for a full broadside of Edie’s charms, specially not with how even Vi could see her friend still wasn’t alright, despite staying here and the full moon almost two days gone. That was most of the reason Vi fell in line, really, beside it being mostly true, and the soul- and gut-crushing mix of relief and dread at Edie being hesitantly friendly even if she still remained wary and reserved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah, it really does get cold around ole Snape. just wanted to say that. it´s not relevant as such, but, enh =)
> 
> and yes, for the so inclined folks with too-sharp attention to details, he does say Amy spoke three times unasked, meaning that one of those cases of speaking-up did not count against her. three guesses which one that might be, even when he´s unhinged and mad like that ^_^


	14. ..Remains Madness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The year settles in, a bit, so to speak. Or rather, the teapot holds fast the tempests inside it =)  
> Edie can and will handle this, she is after all a sane, rational person. Vi can and will handle this, she is after all a sane, rational person. Things will come together, surely.

The literally lunatic drama just didn’t want to end, with no regard to how entirely done with it all Edie was feeling about it all. Snape and Lupin showing up had been respectively horrible and terrifying in different ways, and then, not that long after Vi got shoo-ed out, Headmaster Dumbledore showed up.

Luckily Madam Pomfrey was already in full dragon mode by then. The mediwitch didn’t throw him out right off the bat, although she looked like she really wanted to, but she did make very clear Edie was about to be released and had to be checked before that, and then she stayed in view, if not direct hearing range, shooting obvious, draconic, and embarrassingly reassuring looks over all the while. Despite this, and despite Amy’s insistent assurances earlier, Edie had a hard time staying calm against the immediate and persistent feeling of being in trouble. After all, she did have two students pretending to be her, just for starters, and then there was the fact that Riko had been freaked out so badly Amy was still mad about it, and it was all just an awful mess.

Afterwards, even after sleeping on it, Edie still wasn’t sure what exactly the headmaster had wanted to tell her, or learn from her, or both. He’d expressed very mildly his concern for her, mentioned equally mildly how glad he was she wasn’t going to be out of commission the same days as Professor Lupin, and then, in a distracted mix of apology and worry, made some general statements on Snape that Edie was unable to properly pin down. There was the reassurance that Snape would of course continue his work with her, to make sure next moon would go better all around, and the rest seemed to boil down to an apology on Snape’s behalf. Mostly vague mentions of dementors and the negative effect they could have on various folks, then detours on their history and what various people he knew had said on the subject, until Madam Pomfrey had had enough.

Later, poked and prodded with great care and only just declared fit to leave “to get some proper rest, dear, in _bed_ ” Edie had not expected a knock, none of the previous visitors had knocked after all, or for Professor Flitwick to enter, carrying a shrunk bundle of books like box of chocolates. He waited for Madam Pomfrey to walk over to him to present it to her with compliments from Madam Pince, and after a few more courtesies and polite enquiries (including if there had been any more visitors, which Madam Pomfrey replied to with blunt honesty) he made very clear his offer to walk Edie back to the Eyry was optional, all courtly manners, practised gentlewizard that he was, her head of house.

Edie mostly thought to get it over with right away when she agreed to his offer, although she was unsure of what else he might want to add that hadn’t been brought up already, no matter if she wanted to hear it, or if it even was correct, or at least made any sort of sense.

“I heard Professor Snape was rather vexed at your last potion,” he said by way of starting, just a few steps in the corridor.

He was talking in a good-natured tone, shooting her a cheerful smile, one he usually had when awarding points to one of his own house for a bout of creative thinking, as he liked to call it. She couldn’t help smiling back, just a bit, even if she had no answer and knew she was blushing terribly just from how her face was heating up. He chuckled before continuing.

“I wouldn’t worry about it, Miss Eohyrde, third year won’t matter in the long run, you’re here to learn after all,” he said cheerily as he shook his wand from his sleeve in a motio no less practised than Vi and then swished it in a rather complicated pattern Edie didn’t know at all, and with no discernible effect forthcoming.

“Of course it’s different, things start to get serious with the electives that will accompany you for the rest of your career here, but I have every confidence in you. I still remember when your sister, also in her third year, had a near breakdown when the exams neared,” his small smile, sad but also encouraging, hit her harder than Dumbledore’s entire visit, touching and confusing as that had been, and not even just because they were in a corridor.

“She passed, of course,” he went on like it was just some old, fondly remembered story, “We all knew how badly it hit her to lose her brother, and how worried she was when your injury took a while to heal,” then he seemed to register at last her wide eyes and waved a placating hand. “The faculty, I mean, and you needn’t worry, we’re having an obscure, reference-laden conversation right now, as befits the head of Ravenclaw and one of his more inquisitive fledgelings,” he shot her a quick smile, then went back to his intended subject. “What most people noticed at the time was the lack of obscure end-of-year pranks, but I was jubilant when I heard you had made a full recovery,” his serious demeanour, much like that first memorable appointment, had her fine hair stand on end, had her look at her feet and draw her suddenly clammy hands into her sleeves.

“Miss Eohyrde,” he said, making her look at him as he added “I have been consistently ever since.”

“Of course Albus is doing the only decent thing,” he continued warmly, conversationally, after a frozen moment that had Edie unable to move or even breathe. “In your fascination with historic records last year you may have read about the Book of Letters? Yes? Hah, as I said, jubilant..”

At his twinkly smile and courteous bow to continue, Edie found herself moving in the indicated direction almost automatically, her brain whirring into action on anything to do with the famous, well, formerly famous artefact, and the gnarly vines of history twirling around it..

“But as I was saying, the headmaster is doing the decent thing here. Which is of course admirable,” he nodded, as if conceding her a point, then added in one of his more philosophical tones, “but also fitting for a wizard of Dumbledore’s, hm, much-noted excellence..”

He nodded again, seemingly pleased with the wording while Edie was again trying to mentally get her feet under her, derailed by the repeat jump in subject. Maybe Madam Pomfrey was right after all and she should rest a little rather than immediately jump into the notes Vi had brought her. Unsure what Professor Flitwick meant to say she couldn’t nod, so instead she tilted her head inquisitively.

“Well, crudely put, it is something one would expect of him, isn’t it,” he gestured casually, but his easy, musing tone was belied by his intent, focused look as he continued, “In contrast to, say, from the ordinary witch or wizard. Or students, for that matter..”

His airy shrug didn’t soften the blow in the least. She’d dreaded this even while she’d told herself he wouldn’t, that he wouldn’t think this of her. In some way she’d known he would, the mess with Riko had shown her that, if nothing else. Expect what you dread, even if you don’t expect it.

“I didn’t..” she said, well, yelled, almost, before stopping herself, standing stiff and at a loss to explain, words failing her in her frustration.

Professor Flitwick remained quiet and seemed unsurprised, just standing there and watching her calmly, patiently, clearly waiting for her to speak. And in contrast to her other unwanted visitors he seemed actually set to listen, and understand. It was strangely bizarre.

“I told them not to,” she started, “and I never expected or asked them, not for any of it, and certainly not after I told them not to, this year..”

Her head of house kept quiet in that inquisitive way he had and Edie found herself thinking, revising in hindsight the last month. In less than a second she felt a complete fool, wanted to flee in a wild run or just hide in a hole. Because it was horribly obvious now, the way they had always shifted away from the subject, and small wonder, considering how snappish and loud she’d always been, Loki’s tails.

“It’s not.. it’s not that I don’t appreciate it, I just..” Edie sighed, biting her lip and tugging at her sleeves with still-too-stiff fingers.

There was too much she really couldn’t tell him, and some that she simply didn’t want to say, but he was still looking her with his honest concern and sharp eyes, and if there was one thing she really had to make abundantly clear it was that she wasn’t being pressured or _blackmailed_ , bloody Christian hell, she didn’t even want to know..

“I figured Professor Snape wouldn’t be as easygoing about it,” she started, because that had been the initial reasoning, or at least part of it, “and it’s my problem, not theirs, and I should be able to handle it, specially with the potion, and I can’t always.. I need to be able to deal with it..”

“Hm,” Professor Flitwick nodded thoughtfully, “admirable as this sentiment is, Miss Eohyrde, you are still a student and really shouldn’t be expected to, as you put it, deal with it. I dare say the situation is already hard enough on you without all the attached circumstances. I know,” he waved a hand as she made to protest, “the realities are as they are, but I expect that is also what made your friends act as they did.”

He sighed at her look of incomprehension, not so much disappointed as patient on account of a known difficulty in a subject. Which was not comparable at all, they were _her_ friends after all, even Riko, sort of, and really, how was that supposed to make sense, they had just made everything worse, being ill on the same days as Lupin couldn’t be that big a deal or else, surely, the headmaster would’ve mentioned it, earlier, that is, than just today and..

“Generalisations are, as you surely know, a dangerous thing,” Professor Flitwick winked conspiratorially at her, “but in my experience, despite the wide range of personalities between them, those two houses do share a certain sense for.. practicality.”

At her baffled look he only shrugged and gestured for her to continue her way, and again she followed his courtly manners automatically.

“They knew the problem, a tried and trusted solution, and, if I am not mistaken, of no trustworthy alternatives..” he shrugged again and shook his head lightly, sighing. “If anything, Miss Eohyrde, it’s me who owes you an apology. Albus assured me the matter was handled and there was nothing to worry, but as your head of house the responsibility to make sure of it is mine and, regardless of the reasons, I failed you there..”

This time it was Professor Flitwick who stopped walking, and if Lupin’s absurdity had thrown her it was nothing to the serious look her head of house was giving her, _her_ , the werewolf he’d been saddled with and had, since day one, treated like valued student of his house. Even after the Forbidden Forest disaster first year, and here he was, waving away her arguments as she tried to assure him he had nothing to apologize for.

“No, Miss Eohyrde, I insist. And furthermore I insist that if anyone, no matter if they are student or faculty, gives you any grief at all, you will tell me and let me help. There is no need to detour via a prefect, who won’t know the situation. If there is any problem at all, you come to me..”

Edie found herself unable to look away from his resolute, expectant mien and he didn’t seem to plan on moving without an answer. She nodded.

“Very good,” he was all smiles again, returning to his gallant manners and moving for her to precede him. “I already had some words with the headmaster as the final arbiter, after I heard of that ridiculous homework your class received. That was quite beyond proper or any sort of line..” His very precise taking of breath was much like a huff in any other person as he interrupted himself, shaking his head distractedly. “I dare say he knows already, but I will be sure to make crystal clear to my fellow head of house what sort of behaviour is acceptable, and what is not. And of course Lupin should keep his distance, he’s.. he was always a good student but his situation, well, it impacted him quite strongly..”

“Oh, nobody said, of course,” he answered her shocked look, “He wasn’t one of mine, after all, although I always thought he might have fit well enough. But I do have eyes and a brain, and I am habitually aware of the moon cycles, of course,” his eyes crinkled in amusement, as her confusion changed into understanding. “This means of course that I will be relying on you to let me know if I have to address any of them again, or any one else for that matter,” he continued in a brightly declarative tone that turned oddly threatening as he finished, “invite them into my office proper, if necessary, for a more detailed talk.”

It took a moment before she could reply, could find her voice again, which had lodged in her throat somehow. She knew Professor Flitwick still liked to train, to not get completely out of shape as he put it, his office could actually turn into a spell-prof training hall somehow, and just from how awed the members of their house duelling club always were after he gave them a rare personal tutoring.. well, it was just.. humbling.

“I.. yes, I mean, I’ll be fine, I’m sure, thank you..” Edie tried to smile and found it surprisingly easy, even if she was blushing like mad.

“Excellent,” Professor Flitwick said cheerfully, and the rest of their way really was filled with reference laden conversation, in this case on some aspects of this week’s Charms practical.

He didn’t comment when she didn’t head for the stairs to the main entrance, only favoured her with an exceedingly warm farewell when they neared the hidden corridor that lead to the Eyry’s side-entrance. She was still pondering his words – he was looking forward to seeing her again in class in her usual fine form, had Riko done something odd..er? – when she entered the Bracelet, relaxing instinctively as the gothic arch shrunk and disappeared behind her. The soft murmuring of mingled conversation didn’t waver, nobody bothered her or even looked overly interested, and, well, no reason to, clearly, everything perfectly normal here.

She slowly made her way down to the Floor, then up the stairs, her bones still aching, unable to stop herself from running her tongue over her front teeth. The shiver it sent up her spine had to be just in her mind, _had_ to, but it made more sense to dwell on that than on just how beat up she still felt, even after all that time and effort Madam Pomfrey’d spent on her. When she opened her dorm door, Li and Cornfoot were stretched out on her dormmate’s bed and giggling over a stack of what looked to be Arithmancy sheets.

“Hey there,” Edie smiled a sincere apology, “hope I’m not interrupting but I’m headed for bed right now.”

“No, it’s fine,” Li said, and from her tone Edie really hadn’t interrupted anything of import, which was good. “You still got those ear-plugs or should we head for the Bracelet? Only, it was already rather full earlier..”

“Still got them, you two have fun,” Edie waved the offer away and took her things up to the bathroom to change before crawling into bed.

She fell asleep with no trouble at all, but during the night she woke from a dream of being watched by scores of eyes; cool, lurking ones; angry, judgemental ones; inscrutable ones; hateful ones; coldly amused ones; pitying ones. There was no end to it, no sound, no real sound anyway, just static, and it left her shaking in a cold sweat, blinking away tears as she stared at her drapes afterwards, afraid to close her eyes again. Instead, Edie distracted herself taking a view through her bag. Looking over the notes Vi had left her with, she couldn’t hold the tears in any more.

There Riko was, in those notes, exactly as she knew her, because while she’d clearly written to fit with Edie’s usual style, she hadn’t been able to stop herself from adding all sorts of assorted side notes, “pot-fun” or “i2”, incidentally and interesting, cramped in every-which-way in margins and between paragraphs. The Transfigs ones were of course a mess, and the Defence ones sported more scathing commentary _on_ than actual notes _from_ this year’s take and view on werewolves, but Vi had also copied down Amy’s notes and put the sheets together to make sure Edie had everything that might in any way be relevant. Including a parchment on her interaction with Edie’s housemates over the last days, Loki’s nets, so much for sanity or at least any sort of normalcy.

When she’d stopped tearing up and sniffling she read it again, feeling better already. It made sense to miss her friends and the easy camaraderie of the last two years, before dementors and unfortunate professors and secrets broke everything. And it really did help, letting it out sometimes, as long as she didn’t have to bother anyone with it. In any case, she could go back to sleep then, and Sunday was actually restful. Perhaps because she was so seldom in over the weekend, but Edie was pleasantly surprised at how little conversation and how few games were going on even on the Bracelet. People had their heads in their books, or between stacks of books, and their noses over whatever they were working on, not bothering with talking to or about their neighbours.

After this calm, Monday threw her a bit, suddenly so much interacting again, all to be sifted through, looked into and possibly behind. Vi was still madly tense but obviously glad to see her, Amy much the same, even if they showed it differently. Lupin continued watching her in a way that was plain creepy all through Defence, and Riko was still avoiding her like the plague, only daring to shoot a few shifty, side-eyed looks in her direction, Edie kept an eye out. Then, on Tuesday, Vi was stalking about like she’d been possessed by Snape, all tight-lipped and storm crow, while the potions master had turned an icy shade of indifferent. The short glimpse Edie got of Riko, she was apparently training to impersonate a ghost.

Asked, Vi only shook her head, clearly clenching her jaw against a bad bout of temper. “Not now – _or_ like this,” was all the Hufflepuff let out after a stoic sigh, then clearly made an effort to relax. It actually seemed to work, too, so it couldn’t be that bad or imminently relevant, and Edie really had enough to worry about as it was, with Amy stressed out like that, and Snape being a glacial menace, and Lupin a creepy stalker, not to mention the new subjects, which, yes, were simply fascinating, but also lots of work, and she couldn’t let the old subjects slide, after all..

*

After Edie had made clear she’d be recuperating in the Eyry, as much was as possible anyway, Vi spent the remains of this abysmally fools-moon-lunatic weekend on her own. She understood her friend’s need for keeping her distance, and Vi couldn’t blame her, really, though it made her recall Riko and their own stupid mess, small as it almost seemed in hindsight, made her view it from the other side. It was unpleasant and very nearly terrifying, although she suspected she wasn’t the only one to be equally glad of the chance to retreat a bit. Upon getting back to the Den on Saturday she’d been accosted by Megan and Peter before she’d even got to her damn room.

The rumour mill was going nuts over Lupin and Snape, because of course the corridor hadn’t been empty. Really the only thing to count as a silver lining was that her wand-drawing had been discreet enough, hidden between her, the wall, and the shadows, and if that made Lupin’s remark sting all the more, well, it didn’t hurt in fuelling a rant on why she couldn’t stand the man, because that had been both obvious to and questioned by all askers, of course. It was far too easy to rant on that bloody crook, so much that although she’d tried, really tried, to be sane about it, Alice now wasn’t talking to her because she’d taken offence to Vi calling him, among other things, a sodding vagrant. Which, alright, Vi sort of understood, if only because apparently Riko was one, too, minus the sodding of course, and his profession beyond mediocre professor was not her problem with him but, well, how to explain that properly to Atuin?

Vi spent a lot of time in the Vine Room, staring out the brilliant, wide window panes and smoking. And naming the room, yes, and poking about, and dozing, thinking and not-thinking, about Riko’s measly note, delivered by Korra, and her own, terse reply, and the room and it’s history, when had it become a secret, it was perfect for use as a Greenhouse, had clearly been used that way, forever or at least years ago, from the pots and seeds still cluttered around, that had made it all the easier to hide the cauldron in which they’d prepared the new batch of Polyjuice..

But Monday came and Vi was insanely pleased and, yes, relieved, when Edie, looking herself again, sat beside her, first for a small greeting and the nabbing of a scone on the Hufflepuff table, despite it being Monday, and then in Transfigs, and it was almost entirely normal. Charms was alright, with Riko quiet and wary under the not unfriendly but also not ending scrutiny of Flitwick, which Vi actually understood, from both sides even. After all Edie’s head of house knew, sort of, what they were doing, and had, from his pointed ignoring of the potion master over breakfast, not appreciated Snape being a giant and obvious ass.

Still, Vi was actually glad for a relaxing lunch on her house table. Well, a quiet, less tense one at least, her housemates still preferring to give her space after her weekend’s temper. Of course, because it was Monday and this year a fucked-up farce, in Ancient Runes you could literally feel the potential sparks and explosions in the air. Not from her, of course, but, ironically, in some way seemingly on her behalf, which was beyond ridiculous.

Edie had decided to sit with Amy, had even told Vi before the lesson, and Vi got it, she really did. Edie needed some air, after that mess Vi and Riko had made, and it really wasn’t on that Amy was always sitting alone, even if it was really only because they were an uneven number in the class and Amy tended to arrive out of breath and just in time, and they did always try to make sure she had a table close to them. Apparently Riko wasn’t seeing it that way, though, and the way she was on edge set off all sorts of insane chain reactions in a class that contained the two nosiest, most entitled Slytherins of their year, and a good mix of outspoken and already-displeased members of the other houses.

The funniest part was that Riko seemed to catch on only when it had already taken one full turn, so to speak, and that was using both meanings of funny, and adding worrying into the mix, with how exhausted her friend looked as they headed out for Defence. And, yeah, Vi was right on board with being all kinds of wary and chin-up about that lesson, specially after what little Edie had told her of Lupin’s visit.

“Schuigung,” Riko said, first thing, only middling quiet considering they were walking in a loose group of Hufflepuffs and Slytherins. The apologetic look she shot Vi did fit the word while the neutral tone did not, and it cued her in, at least a bit, even before Riko continued, still neutral, still German. “Was a bit slow on the uptake there and I know you didn’t mean to publicly malign my househead on Saturday, but you know how it goes..”

Vi blinked, mostly at her own lack of earlier understanding, and took in her situation again. Riko’s tensely casual shrug, the bone-dry humour in her look, the classical stubborn jut of her chin as she kept up with Vi in their herd of prickly dungeon dweller. And, yes, of course, as weird as they tended to be about it, house loyalty was a thing Slytherins shared with her house. And yet, never mind what the Hogwarts rumour mill had made of her meet with that damn Lupin, and Vi had overheard a half score of right absurd takes regarding Snape, here Riko was, not giving half a fuck. It’d blow over in a week, at most, this little mess, but snakes had long memories and held grudges like crazy, never mind the madness of this year, where hardly anyone, least of all Snape, was anywhere near sanity, and what’d that say about his house?

“Of course I didn’t,” Vi said, in plain English and with a tolerant eye-roll and exasperated sigh, none of it faked at all, “I simply told Lupin to keep his distance where he’s not wanted, and it _is_ rather obvious Snape’d rather set him on fire than share the same air. A sentiment I can understand perfectly fine.”

The murmuring around them seemed to pause for a telling half-moment and Vi tried to stop a smug smirk from taking over her face. From Riko’s tolerant wink she only managed partly, but Vi was pleased enough to answer with an off-hand shrug and continue her commentary, just a tad more quietly.

“With how he’d been warbling on, it was that or compliment him on his silver tongue and, er, no. Mind, I was tempted, but I’m a tad too sane I guess..”

Maybe she’d still been too smug or maybe Riko knew her a little too well, Vi hadn’t bothered preventing a small smirk this time. Riko blinked one awed blink, and then a grin just about split her face as she loped an arm around Vi, eyes shining with glee.

“Literally?” she said, in her best tell-us-a-story voice, the one that had an inbuilt way of making you feel brilliant and insane at the same time.

Vi sighed, knew she was blushing enough for her friend to notice, but the awe, and Riko never faked that sort of awe, that was a warm glow in her gut, had her huff half a laugh and nod instead of uncomfortably clearing her throat or shrugging it off, didn’t want to shrug Riko’s arm off, too.

“Vi-i-i, you are fantastic,” Riko literally lit up beside her, then, at Vi’s tsk, channelled her glee into a flock of surface harmless questions and remarks, from “When d’ya look it up?” to “Can you teach me?” from “It’s the full range yeah?” to “Does it react?” to “Does it change the taste?” to “Oooh, I wanna go to the Three Broomsticks with it!” Their way down the five storeys was far too short and of course Lupin was already there.

Of all things, today’s Defence-lesson reminded Vi most of Riko’s stay at the Wyvernsknot this summer, specifically the way Vi could sometimes see all too clearly Riko heedlessly pushing, smile too bright and voice too cheerful, against whatever was around, in this case Lupin. Vi wanted to hide her face in her hands or, even better, go and hide, sleep in her bed until she wasn’t quite as tired any more. But, on the other hand, it was fair since Lupin had, as always, started it. He was a menace, really, with his creepy, never-ending staring, his permanent scrutiny, as if he wanted to vivisect them both with his eyes. Also, his lesson on Hinkypunks was not only nothing new but also left out all parts that might tease the brain into thinking, and Riko didn’t deal well with boredom, or enforced dumbing down, least of all in already less than stellar circumstances.

Vi had ample experience weathering tense tedium, but Riko got edgy and impatient, in fact Vi suspected her friend only suffered Binns so well because she could ignore him, occupying her mind on her own. Obviously that was not an option here, and thus Lupin really only had himself to blame. It was the Kappa all over again, only worse, since Riko clearly took a fierce, antagonistic glee in poking at all the ways Lupin was cutting their eduction short on the subject of Hinkypunks, what with leaving out their various international subspecies, and their actually historically documented use on account of how they had about zero control over themselves. It made her arguments quite the opposite of the Kappa situation, and in the context of werewolves and full moons very pointed. Hitting home only with Lupin, too, as she went on about their small brains and high susceptibility to all sorts of astronomical alignments and cosmic rays and other influences, even including from sources not on this actual plane, which made them useful for all sorts of plain fascinating research..

Anja had meant to facilitate a return to the lesson at some point but Riko countered, correctly, that it was at least new info. Then, as if it wasn’t bad enough already, she managed to descend the lesson into a mutinous, class-wide palaver on why they were doing creatures, again, third year in a row, instead of actual defence, at least basic wards or definitions on what was Dark actually, officially. This in turn led to an entirely too harmonious, if you discounted their ignoring of Lupin’s existence, discussion on the problem of how students who couldn’t take tutors over the summer should cope with this, seeing how they’d have to do their OWLs regardless of how messed up their curriculae had been, and that drew in even more participants of both houses, leaving nobody arguing for a return to Lupin’s lesson and Vi so, so tired.

And of course as the lesson closed Riko was asked ever-so-mildly to stay behind, leading to sympathetic shrugs and looks from both houses as the rest of the class filed out. Vi almost rolled her eyes at how amused Riko seemed by it all and how cheerily she proclaimed it convenient, she still had a few questions..

“I’ll wait outside,” Vi warned, throwing a quelling look at Lupin and then her friend, pushing down uncomfortable memories of last Friday.

“Oh psh,” Riko waved a hand, loose-boned, almost giddy, and the most relaxed Vi had seen her all day, “Chill out, it’s fine, I’ll see you at th’exit.”

“Right,” Vi snorted quietly, then, outside, leaned against the wall right by the now-closed door, and watched Parkinson across the corridor until she left. As eavesdropping charms went, that was a good one, but just like the visual link to the keyhole it was easily interrupted. And, no, Vi didn’t take it for her own use, an edged Sonorus did the trick almost as well, left no trace on the inside, and could also warn of approaching threats.

“Quite the performance,” Lupin had remarked inside, in that fake mild voice that always raised Vi’s heckles with the instinct to search the buried threat in whatever he said, and now had her silently mouth his stupid, forever quantified words while Riko shot back a bright “Oh, no trouble!”

Heh, no quantifier at all, just a little block with many sides and edges, and Vi smirked, but then he delivered, “I visited Miss Eohyrde on Saturday,” in a flat tone, and that had her suppress both a growl and the desire to go in there; the nerve of that sodding wanker, how dare he..

“Yes, I’m aware of it, thank you,” she heard Riko scath, too sharply cheery by far. “And I’m sure the entire school would like to know all about it, too, but how about you get to the point of this and stop trying to make even more of a spectacle of yourself, and your heap of petty, personal problems, than you already have so far, Mr Lupin. See here, let’s activate that, eh..”

The following tell-tale fizzling sound made clear Riko had used one of the privacy pebbles she’d been bugging Vi for, not one of those she’d made herself, those sounded different and were less stable still. So much for that, then. Vi sighed and left, not reassured at all even with that solved.

She didn’t even make it to the ground floor. Yes, this was clearly a right and proper Monday, fitting right in this miserable year so far, no doubt at all. Fina and Andy stepping round a corner into her way from where they’d clearly lurked for this very purpose fit right in. Vi sighed again, irritated beyond belief at her own idiocy of not obscuring herself, and taking an obvious but seldom used route that she well knew was known, and that was not even mentioning the rest of absolutely everything, Edie, Snape, bloody Dumbledore, just.. merde de bout en bout.

“Fina,” she said flatly, just this side of polite, with a small nod, then added, appropriately timed, “Andy,” as he stepped up beside her cousin.

No reason to offer a clear insult after all, even if she really felt like it, fingers itching to draw already. Judging from Fina’s face of distaste it was mutual, which, hah. Vi had to take a flat breath to keep her temper, no point going down that road, absolutely none, even as her spine straightened and the itch between her shoulder blades, that seemed to have become permanent, now increased until she almost twitched with it.

“Heard you had a run-in with Professor Lupin over the weekend,” Fina sneered, rude as always, “heard quite some tales of yer bad-mouthing, too..”

Vi blinked and had to fight the urge to laugh hysterically. It was of course just another fabricated excuse, even if Vi knew by now that Lupin behaved differently in Gryff/Raven classes and it was possible Fina had no dislike of him. But if her cousin knew he was a werewolf.. heh, yeah..

“Good to know you at least try to stay up-to-date, Fina,” she said, widening her stance as Andy moved to the side. “Not that I’m surprised you identify so strongly with someone just as unable to react sensibly when he isn’t wanted. You’re not competing though, yeah?”

Andy pressed his lips together disapprovingly but Fina was either too thick to get what Vi was on about or too busy with her own reality.

“You better take a care, coz,” she drawled, “can’t let you give our family a bad name with the first decent Defence teach in ages, least since I’m here. Looks like you need some schooling, eh, no wonder, you little muddled freak never had any manners worth more’n a kick..”

Vi wondered if Snape sometimes felt like this, he sometimes got that look of utter unsurprised yet fascinated resignation with the idiocy around him. Then she recalled Snape had gone down the deep end too, and then she had to keep down several biting remarks that offered themselves. As much as Fina was a terrible pest, and a dangerous one, too, every year more, she was still family.

“Yeah, too late for that, ’bout th’family name,” she said, tipping her head slightly to the side, fighting to keep her voice serious instead of dry and bitter, as it wanted to be on pure instinct, keeping her fingers splayed wide, thumbs hooked in her pockets. “He kindly told me he knows all about our family already, so, sorry, bad luck if you wanted t’court him..”

When you had to be glad for Fina hissing like a deranged cross of a rodent and a teapot then it was definitely a bad day, Vi reflected, but it was at least something of a return to normal patterns of behaviour in a world, more exactly a Hogwarts, that had gone entirely mad this year, so, yeah, there was that. At the same time Vi felt a wave of exhaustion well after that thought, that had her clench her jaw, had her jut out her chin and draw her shoulders back just so.

Andy’s hex, something yellowish, had enough of an aura that Vi shot a Calcar to derail it while she evaded Fina’s with a jump back and a Protego. It proved not the ideal cause of action, she should’ve pressed forward, because now they could both fire easily and block her way. It went on a bit, with the two taking pot-shots at her and her getting in the occasional riposte, good old-fashioned insults mixed in liberally into the hexes and jinxes flying through the corridor. Then a sudden tingling rushed up her spine, quite unlike being hit with a jinx or hex, and after the second, less pronounced ping she was entirely ready for the timed flash, a white one, made sense with how dark the corridor was, with the overcast sky even the windows didn’t help..

Her eyes were still closed, no more than a fraction of a second had passed, and there was a calm hand on her arm, accompanied by a ghost’s whisper of her name. Right beside her, to be heard over Fina and Andy’s yells, and it shook Vi almost as much as the cackling quality of the air, not around her but at her left side, where Riko was, wand out already, and casting a spell Vi didn’t recognize. Then the lively-veined wand pointed down and with a whoosh of replaced air Fina and Andy were thrown in a way that suggested a radius. Before she could analyse any further, darkness flashed and Vi was yanked into it.

This was crazy, Vi’s mind insisted, and it wasn’t even about what her senses told her – the weird not-texture of the fluid not-wetness, as a breathless moment stretched without passing of time or other input – and it went beyond the strange furling sensation that suddenly reversed. As always the first breath after unfurling was a bit strange, as if her body had to recall being a body, but that reminded her why this was crazy..

“Riko, you idiot,” she hissed while already sheathing her wand and drawing up an Obscurantis as she took in their whereabouts. “Inside the castle? Were you hit in the head, merde, I can quote you back at yerself if need be, damn, you look like shite, c’mon, let’s get some air..”

“Sorry, highness,” Riko huffed a clearly embarrassed smile at her, only visible in the eyes, really, and meekly accepted the offered arm. Clearly not well then, but just as clearly in far better spirits and far more sane than during all of today’s lesson, and that after she’d just had to stay ‘for a few words’ with Lupin.

“What did you do,” Vi said, didn’t ask, dread unfurling belatedly, in the wake of the relief of being on ground level and unnoticed and all that.

“Oh, I just managed to beat him on the field of low-slung accusations,” Riko declared so smugly that Vi felt there should be a fanfare somewhere, and banners unfurling in a dramatic gust of wind, especially when her friend added, “and it wasn’t even on the grounds that I am right while he doesn’t have the first, solitary fragment of a clue.”

“Mhm,” she huffed patiently, admittedly amused and intrigued in equal measure, allowing herself to be diverted because she could, now.

“Yes, it was brilliant, Loki’s nets, I still want to set that fucker on fire and it’ll be work, of course, what isn’t, here, but it went like this..”

And Vi was treated to a blow-by-blow, so to speak, of Lupin accusing them of either blackmailing or planning to blackmail Edie, which, yes, made setting that crook on fire sound like a brilliant plan, but Riko had not only informed him coldly that Miss Eohyrde was inherently incapable of being blackmailed, thank you very much, she had also thrown it back in his face. Turned out he’d been in Gryffindor, unsurprisingly, and graduated ’78, the same year as Snape, also unsurprising, and apparently Lady Malfoy. Incidentally the same year as one James Potter, and also the escaped, deranged killer Sirius Black. He’d also been sharing a dorm with none other than said escaped, deranged killer, and Potter, and if that was coincidence then Vi was a Hinkypunk.

Clearly he’d been allowed to attend just as secretly by Dumbledore as Edie and, whatever his history was, clearly the headmaster had plans for him, so exposing him was right out, no matter what. Just the fact he had been hired at all, with the obvious bad blood between him and Snape, not to even mention the way he was now harassing the potions master and his students. But it did cut both ways, didn’t it, with him here for a reason, clearly under orders, bound by whatever obligation he really had past his teaching. Probably keeping Potter the younger alive. Rather invited harassing him right back, in ways that would fly under the radar of the normal, uninformed populace, harmless enough they wouldn’t infringe on his duties.

A situation he was appraised of now, thanks to Riko, who insisted she had only requested he kindly stay off their backs and do his job, whatever it was supposed to be. Not in those exact words, of course, but he was warned now, verbally, and their first backing of it would be splendidly peaceful, easy to facilitate, and Vi liked the idea of it. It made her hopeful. Maybe they could start to put this year into a semblance of order soon, right after they’d finished this for the day, after Flying, during dinner likely..

Only a few hours later Vi knew, knew for a fact, that one of those days she was going to strangle Riko. It’d be very tragic, yes, but there it was, and it would serve her deranged snake right for driving Vi off the deep end, because that was the other fact that made itself abundantly clear. Vi had liked Riko’s idea about their making a point to Lupin, liked it a lot in fact, even as she was rolling her eyes as Riko insisted on painting a literal point on the folded parchment. Well, it’d become an envelope by then, and, as Riko just had to, tsk, point out, they usually had to have some sort of address on them, neh, Vi-chan.

She might’ve felt worse about putting in a deep-blue flower of monkshood, aconite, bloody fucking wolfsbane, with the lupine, yellow, heh, fit double, didn’t it, if she hadn’t seen herself how well, in a manner of speaking, Edie handled it. Besides, it was only a single stem, inside an envelope, not cut or mushed or anything. Anyway, that’d been fine, more than fine really, the heady rush of a right sharp prank coming together with their righteous mission, with having Riko at her back, with their combined glee of silent triumph at a flawless coup. They’d been obviously at their tables for dinner and, after confirming Lupin’s presence, left equally invisibly in a manner that told their housemates they were still supposedly there.

Afterwards, sitting by their exit again, sharing a smoke, Riko was clearly enjoying the moment, too, leaned back against the wall and squinting at the colours the sinking sun was painting in the heavy clouds. Vi couldn’t seem to recall when she’d last felt as peaceful or relaxed, even with the lack of any sort of clear sky since they’d arrived at the castle.

“We can talk, y’know, if you like,” Riko said suddenly, then took a deep breath before continuing, already heralding a mess just with that. “I mean.. we don’t have to, whatever you like,” she gestured vaguely, classic sign she wasn’t quite clear, herself, on what she was saying.

Vi tilted her head, signalling cautious interest, which Riko took for the cue to continue. Still vaguely waving her hands, oh, Circe’s cauldron..

“It’s just,” Riko shoved at her hair then sat on her hands. “We’re hardly hanging out, yeah? Fuck, there’s times I make comments to you in my head! And then we hang and being quiet’s fine. But that – it don’t mean we can’t talk, yeah? If you want to, or rant, or – or ask stuff, y’know, since there’s still that – that matter, right, and I.. since I left out.. things, just, ah, if you like..”

Vi hmm-ed agreeably, shooting her friend only a politely passing glance. It seemed the best course of action, really, because she could imagine, well, she _knew_ , uncomfortably well and personally, what it’d take to actually, blunt-out say any of that, much less the entire thing.

“Would..” she started after a few moments, then stopped, annoyed at herself, at her family, all of them, at all of circumstance and everything else about that little mess, including how not little it was, how it just wouldn’t go away, would only grow if she always stepped around it.

“If I’d asked,” she started again, set to end this with the least amount of acknowledging it humanly possible, “At the time, or after, would you’ve told me, what you were doing?”

The look that got her was fond and warm, a hug almost, but also something else she couldn’t quite place, discerning, questioning, embarrassed, Vi wasn’t sure what to think. Then Riko gave a huff of amusement more self-deprecating than Vi had ever seen on her and pulled a string over her head. A pendant of striking blue, much like her friend’s eyes, was dangling on it as Riko held it out, raising an eyebrow expectantly until Vi took it with a questioning look.

“Sure,” Riko shrugged, huffed a distracted sigh, then propped her forearms on her legs. Vi was ridiculously glad to be only glanced at quickly. Much like she herself had done earlier Riko was looking at the sky again. “S’your family, innit, course I’d ’ve told ya. Still gonna, ’fya like. I just, well, figured you wanted plausible deniability, y’know, or maybe lack of conflicting, ah, obligations. Anyway, I wasn’t gonna push it, you’re busy enough as is, without.. well, I’m not sorry though, there’s..”

And that was when the pendant twitched. Vi froze, felt every single muscle freeze cold and lock up. Riko just rolled her eyes and huffed again.

“Well, I’m not sorry for fucking up those deals. I mean, I didn’t pass on anything big, not gonna make any trouble big enough to hit _you_ , even indirectly. I’m sorry about, well, you being in that spot there, over the hols, that.. I’m really sorry. I’d still do it again though, just.. ahno.. Vi..?”

Vi barely registered the words, staring at the thing in her hand like it was venomous. Which wasn’t even that far off, was it. Over the pounding of her pulse she heard Riko ask her name again, sounding worried and confused. _Confused._

“That..” Vi grit out, took a breath, levelled her voice, stared death at the snake beside her. “That’s a cueroscope.”

“Ye-es? I just thought, with.. after the whole mess, yeah, err, well, I just figured it’d.. it might make it easier for you to believe me?” Riko’s tone had moved from confused to entirely, apologetically _clueless_ , right, as _if_ , but Vi managed to keep still and quiet, to draw another level breath.

“How’d you get that,” she demanded, because even Ministry personnel had to be cleared to own them, temporarily only, had to fill all sort of forms for it too, and..

“Oh! Birthday gift.. first ever from, y’know,” Riko gestured to her small watch-chain, clearly embarrassed. Not _s_ _ayi_ _ng_ it, though, so she was clearly aware of them not being legal to own for anyone. Or pretending that was her reason for not saying it loud and proper. Vi hated the thought but it was there and she couldn’t un-think it, could barely keep still at it.

“How about you spell it out for me,” she ground out, fist so tight around the string she could hardly feel it any more.

“Fine, alright, I got it from my spellfather, Lord Malfoy, by owl, on my eleventh birthday,” Riko sighed. “Why are you so crabby about it?”

“..Why were _you_ , then?” Vi shot back, almost choking on the words, for another reason now. Bloody shit, she’d had it ever since..?

“Cause it’s obviously not exactly legal, neh! Mind, I didn’t look it up, but I’ve been through enough stalls and shops and never seen one, nor any adverts or prices anywhere, and it’s Lord Malfoy we’re talking about, or rather not, if it please. Alright?”

And now Riko was heading toward put-upon, and Vi was going to strangle her, and then she’d have a corpse on her hands, Merlin’s hairy, bloody testicles!

“Alright?!” she echoed. “Right, of course, you’ve only been spying on me ever since we bloody met but it’s alright, you only did it for yourself!”

“What? I never..”

“Oh, so you weren’t using this – against me – against all of us – since day one – without ever telling us, is that what you’re saying?” Vi rolled over every attempt of Riko even opening her mouth, pinned her with a glare that had Riko hold up her hands and stay quiet even after Vi’d finished, after she was in fact expecting Riko to talk. But Riko stayed quiet, still as a stone, face an unreadable mask, swallowing audibly.

“Are you..” Vi checked with a quick look but Riko’s hands were still gripping her legs, so no wand-magic and no seals even if Riko couldn’t seem to meet her eyes. “Are you using magic? Or quicktime?!”

She could hear Riko gulp again. “Quicktime, sorta,” she said tonelessly, still staring at the ground.

“And..?” Vi prompted shortly.

“S’not helping,” was the equally toneless answer.

“Not helping?!” Vi repeated, aghast, trying hard to not think of several potential shades of context involving literal truth and Riko’s penchant for it and.. “With what!”

For a moment Vi though she wouldn’t get any sort of answer, Riko sitting and quiet like statue, her face a closed-off mask. Then Riko said, “Oh, nothing earth-shattering,” taking an even breath, her tone absent-minded, disturbingly like that day last year, after the end-of-year feast. Like she wasn’t all there even as she continued talking, mind busy elsewhere, poking things better unpoked.

“Can’t change it, can I,” Riko went on coolly, in the way of delivering a diagnosis, “and it never even occurred to me, which just shows, again, what kind of useless, idiotic freak I am, which..” the shrug was so distant and distracted it was right creepy, but as she threw her hands up Riko left behind some of that stillness, at least for a second, before she was gripping her shins again. Her voice was more awake, though, as she continued with hardly a pause, “Fuck, I can’t help it or fix it, sorry, k’so, I _am_ sorry, but that helps exactly nothing, doesn’t change shit, even if I never used it against you, not even in cards, it’s just..”

And after another shrug she just fell silent, legs drawn up with hands gripping tightly the dark fabric. Still again, and tense, yes, but in a strange, defeated sort of way, which Vi couldn’t be blamed to not associate with her, to not know right away, seeing how that was definitely a first. She really looked right miserable, pale and exhausted, staring ahead unseeingly almost like a freshly animated dead, but Vi still had that bloody cueroscope in her hand, and being the bigger person paled next to that metaphorical burning lodestone.

“What do you mean you never used it against us,” Vi said. “You use this against anyone around you just by knowing more’n they want you to.”

“They only trigger on actual lies, though, which, yeah, people do a lot, most-all courtesy and such, or if one doesn’t want to talk on something, and you’re none of you different there, and I never thought much on it, beyond the obvious ‘alright, leaving that aside then’ and any, well, most liars worth a fuck put in literal truth where they can, so it’s just.. dunno, sorta static, most times..”

Vi stared balefully as Riko shrugged again, still huddled like that, not looking up, still in that resigned, static stance, just answering without any of her usual inflection. Still with that closed-off mask instead of her usual expressive mien or body language.

“There’s spells to confound that, though, did you know,” she said, watching with hawks eyes for any reaction.

And she wasn’t disappointed. Riko blinked, twice, actually looking at Vi in a startled way, almost owlish, like it took a while to sink in. “No,” she said, her tone just a tad cautious, just a bit questioning, “No, that’s news to me..”

Vi could almost taste, in the short pause before Riko shut down again, how her friend wanted to ask, wanted to know all about it, poke and prod it, but, hah, right, answering was her thing now and, Morgana’s Veil and Vine, Vi knew enough to know it took very specific magic to influence a cueroscope, and it hadn’t twitched the least bit since that first time. There was still a massive cauldron of ugly feeling boiling in her guts, under her sternum, fogging her head with miasma. It’d be there for a while, she supposed, but Vi had enough practice working through that sort of thing. Even if she wanted to strangle her friend for being its cause.

“Why’d you keep it secret, then,” she said, the closest she could bring herself to anything even resembling an olive-branch.

It had Riko draw a noticeable breath, even if she was still staring at the ground, had her shrug again, this time with actual embarrassment if Vi was any judge, which she prided herself on being, thank you very much, even after the historical fuck-up regarding her friends history.

“I didn’t mean to,” Riko said, “keep it a secret, that is, it just never came up, honestly, Vi, I’d ’ve told you, I meant to, test it out properly’n all, limits and such, but there was always something or other going on all the time, and it just never was that relevant, really..”

Vi was unfathomably glad of her own business face as her friend, stupid, insane serpent that she was, bit her lips to prevent further babbling, looked away again instead of doing her puppy-dog impression. Not wanting to assume she was in a place to do so, Vi knew, and rightly so, too, sort of, but it was still.. just so Riko. As much as her friend acted as if every problem had a solution, or at least a work-around, Vi had seen how thrown she was when things didn’t work out. Or maybe because of it. Of course Slytherins were prone to stacks upon stacks of different layers, but the rift between those two shades of ego, the ridiculous notion of personal invincibility versus everything always being her fault.. and Riko _was_ insanely distractable, at the best of times. Vi shook her head, exasperated beyond belief.

“One of those days,” she said, “your getting distracted and falling off the deep end over it will get you killed.”

“Eh,” Riko shrugged, which sometimes meant yes and was in this case probably an attempt to not argue about any part of what Vi had just said. Which, in context, reminded her..

“So, this new project of yours.. what’s with that?”

“Top secret,” Riko said after a long moment from where she was still haunched over, still not looking at Vi. “Includes other parties, too, so I really can’t say right now, sorry. I will when its finished, though, and it’s nothing bad, honestly, Vi!”

Nothing bad. Right. Vi almost said it out loud, recalling a certain instance of ‘not actively terrible’. Nothing bad was still a fair step up, though, even if it raised the question..

“And of course you can’t say who is involved in this top secret, personal project with you..” she said, cool and level, trying to construct a timetable for deductions. Riko had already mentioned it second day of lessons, so..

“Oh, no, it’s not like that, Vi, it’s just, ah, a personal debt, sort of, and the other parties aren’t.. it’s a transaction thing, alright, and nothing to do with any students or teachers..”

Riko was looking her with wide, worried eyes and the cueroscope hadn’t so much as twitched. Even with the terrible feeling she was making a mistake, Riko had be vague as Divs there, Vi decided to let it go for now. Nothing bad, she’d said, and truthfully.

“You’ll have to tell them,” she said, and then, “What are your plans with it now.”

“Well,” Riko said after a long moment, clearly taking both meanings right to the head and staring off uncomfortably over Vi’s shoulder. Vi could almost taste the quicktime whirling through her friend’s brain.

“I know that now, yeah, ’nd I will. Before even doing the peace-thing, yeah?” Riko said, a strange resignation ringing in her voice and written all over her, but Vi was not going to make this easier, this was non-negotiable.

“As for plans,” Riko shrugged, clearly still pulling herself together, “if y’want it we’ll have t’discuss the value in reparitions, maybe by time or..”

“No thanks,” Vi said firmly, quietly appalled at everything about the offer.

“Alright,” Riko went on in her usual, nothing-to-see-here fashion, already back to acting her normal self, jumping lightning-brain that she was. “In that case I’ll, hn, charming the string should work, so it comes off without a fuss when we hang out, and you get it when we do, no, listen, put it in a pocket then if you like but.. it’s a debt..”

Vi rolled her eyes at Riko’s stubborn look and vague gesture, even if she couldn’t really argue the point. “Guess we get to do those proper tests after all,” she remarked, and then found herself unable to mind the momentary flash of bright grin she got from her friend.

Afterwards, back in her quiet corner of the Den, after being asked for all sorts of details on ‘The Lupin Situation There’ and taking care to only use literal truths even if surely none of _her_ housemates had one of the dratted things, Vi found she was still in a right mood. But there was really nothing to be done and she was not insane enough to tell Edie _now_ , before they had any chance to get over their respective hang-ups. Besides, Vi was still a bit shocked by Amy and Edie’s insane kneejerk reaction to _tell someone_ , any one at all, of the homeless orphan among them. Luckily, once they spent half a seconds thought on it, they agreed it’d be opposite of any kind of helpful, but still, just the idea!

On Wednesday Lupin had the yellow lupine in a vase on his desk. He continued keeping watch on them but his lesson was mostly alright and Vi figured he’d got it. She felt a right heel for leaving Edie in the dark, again, when her friend asked if anything was up, but Riko didn’t disappoint in her making-it-up campaign. And it was just temporary anyway, and they weren’t interacting, her three differently crazy not-sisters, and Riko knew to tell them first thing, as soon as it got that far. Not that it seemed to be on her imminent to-do list. Instead, Riko had focused on her, had after the absurd shyness in Tuesday night’s Astronomy and the bashful cheer during the theory part Wednesday morning, all but picked Vi up like a date after Herbology, just so they could walk to Defence together.

She’d clearly skipped Binns, the unsubtle flashing of blue glass in not currently-existing sunlight, Riko you idiot, had alerted Vi to the serpent lurking outside about halfway through the lesson, and what sort of person thought it a good use of time to linger in this kind of clammy weather round the glasshouses, where the wind was always snaking about? The same person greeting her with a wide grin and wave as soon as class let out, Vi only just managing to get to the front of the group of manes by the door. The same person who would ever so discreetly, meaning in sight of all and sundry, _including Amy_ , hand over, closed hand and string coiled around the gleaming blue like a living snake, that stupid, thrice damned pendant.

The same, utterly insane person already carrying the smell of cold smoke, so strongly that Vi could near on taste it, who then offered up a fag out of a crumpled pack, before taking and lighting a new one herself, already in a full swing of cheerful babbling and rambling and taking her arm. Vi found she couldn’t, well, she could, and did sigh, but not _seriously_ , ugh, yes, fine, Riko, it was going to be alright. Because yes, it was going to be. Even if Vi later had to repeatedly answer that, no, she and Riko were not hooking up, no, they were not just trying it out, not just having fun either, no. They were simply hanging out, just like the last few years, Circe’s cauldron and circle.

It was fascinating though, their talks, usually before or after Defence, Friday’s Charms, and some during Astronomy, even if they had to account for Lupin Surveillance at times, just for Riko’s scrupulous answering. Equally fascinating _and_ warming was how her friend did indeed test the pendant but also made sure to really answer the question, even if the dratted instrument would have already been satisfied. Without fuss, too, and not minding it, though she did have a tendency to stray to the daily and get distracted. Natural, that, with Riko and her not-so-secret weakness of distractability, and not a problem. Now if only the rest of, oh, just about everything, right down to how best sell the visible part of her own plan regarding the dementor-derived problems to Uncle Giles, could be so easy to handle..


	15. Working Around To The Next Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ..it's a lot of work, not going insane, never mind handling everything else, too. But there you are, sometimes you just have to grit your teeth and wade on, right? it's bound to get better sooner or later. right?

After her goodbye to her friend, after that awful turn of a sharpish-alright day of dealing with Lupin exactly as he deserved it, Riko just barely made it to the narrow octagonal niche that doubled as a vent up to the fourth floor. Vi’s cold look and her sharp listing, laying out Riko’s enormous failing, kept echoing in her head even after the Hufflepuff had calmed down, had let her explain even. Or rather because of it. Because this was Vi. Vi, who was the epitome of sane in most ways, of practical. And yes, she’d calmed down, but it was all business, managing, sane. Not that Vi wasn’t person, wasn’t personal, too, but this was managing. There was no way Riko’d end up anything but mortal enemy or a dead smear on the floor as soon as she told Amy or Edie - and deservedly so, evidently.

Sliding down against the wall, Riko drew up her legs and buried her forehead between her knees, curling up under her hood, and Obscurantis, and a layer of darkest shadow on top, trying to breathe and only breathe. Was hard enough. Not like Amy would help her with it again, ever, gone that, and her own fault. Her jaw hurt, so hard was she clenching it, still barely managing to keep down the mindless, incoherent howl that was pressing outwards. That or hysterical laughter, she wasn’t sure. Either way, none of it would help; she had to get herself into working order before she went back to the Lair, handle today’s Lupin, just for starters. Always breathe out first, Riko recalled, and do it slow. She wasn’t panicking, was calm, really, just stressed; slow, solid breaths through the nose were good enough, no need to open her mouth, better, yeah, being quiet.

It was calming, counting the breaths, and Riko leaned back her head after a while, relaxing, closer to ready to start thinking on detailed situations and their handling again. She was already finished with Lupin’s and well into the next item, or rather tangle, on her list, that around Tony, when her attention caught. On a figure, smallish, and as she focussed she could hear him, too. Further inspection via quietly spidering up the wall, after settling a soundcatcher in a chalk-lock on the entry, revealed it to be one of the firsties. Cowley. Perched on one of the ledges the endstones of the various arches ending in the octagon made, and clearly busy with his own misery.

Riko suppressed a bitter sigh, cool handling-mode settling like a shroud of icy mist over fresh, sparking lava, stilling it into jagged ridges, hatefully familiar. This was a school, huh. What subject, then, she wondered, required a kid to cower on a ledge, yards above the ground, crying so quietly one could barely make it out. Warped fingers stretched out on his drawn-up knees, clearly hexed bad enough to still hurt. How long had he been at it, too? And how often, to be clearly experienced in being quiet, knowing the place, not to mention the resigned, patient way he was clearly waiting it out. In the corridors, not in the Lair. Riko expelled another deep breath, took a new one. _Some_ kind of school. And now he just had to startle, fantastic, decent awareness, good for him, right, who even needed a plan for such delicate situations, k’so-chog- _oh_.

“I’m sure,” she started in a calm unthreatening tone, breaking her Obscurantis and ready to stop him from breaking his neck.

No need though. It was a relief but also worrying, he clearly was shocked near senseless, but he didn’t yell, or move. A short, strangled breath, pressing against the wall, away from her, but he’d clearly trained his startle reaction towards freezing. Stars and shades.

“.. there’s good reason to not go to the Pomfrey with that,” she continued, keeping the calm tone and neutral mask, all polite enquiry, factual.

No answer, beyond a glare. It took the threat of dragging him petrified to Madam P and then-after the next best prefect to get him started at all, and then it was, at first, just a sharp, challenging “Wossitterthee!”

“Ah,” Riko said with a small smile and that.. _that_ set him off.

Loki’s tongue, that kid could cuss. It was fascinating and hilarious, a shiny-brilliant distraction, but he was clearly overwrought and only getting more so. And she hadn’t meant to insult him, really, though she should’ve known he’d be a bit thin-skinned about it. Warranted even, sort of, if not ever helpful, not in the least.

“Alright then,” she sighed and drew one of the privacy pebbles out of her sleeve when he showed no sign of letting up.

It stopped him cold, which just showed one more aspect of this worrying kid, didn’t it, descending into defiant silence as the spell unfurled, the light current brushing over them until it found its boundary. Tight around the eyes now, and seriously, he just had to be _scared_ of her, did he?

“Much as I appreciate your views on, and your tendency to stick to my mental facilities, or supposed lack there-of, I recommend you rethink this strategy of yours. And by the way, neither goats nor dogs were involved in my conception, try and keep it in mind, hm?” Riko let a bland, edged smile snake over her face, complete with shuttered eyes, but was kind enough to keep her hands visible. It was a warning and his widening eyes, his shocked gulp at being _understood_ were ..comical. She nodded, satisfied it’d calmed him.

“The good news,” she jumped right into the presented opening, “is we can have a decent deal now,” and she let her smile grow more lively, if still sharp-edged.

“Wor.. beawnt makin’ an offer ah cawn’t afuse?” He’d gone for caustic but it came out more on the wary side, cutting bite a thin cover over bone-deep worry.

It was that wariness that enabled Riko to not break into a loony grin. She did really smile though, and relax her shoulders a bit, too. Almost threw back a comment on the cotton wool, really really wanted to, but it’d set him off again for sure. From his sour look he was aware of it, too.

“Pretty sure y’can. Stupid, if y’ask me, but hey, no skin off my nose,” Riko teased drily, then, at his impatient look, gave him another moments bright smirk and said, “Your accent for a dose of Official English, tm. It’s a shame, after all, being stonewalled like that, hm..?”

He stared, a bit. Opened his mouth, shut it. “Dule’s deal, much?” he said at last and, hey, at least he wasn’t taking it for a joke. Smart of him.

Riko couldn’t help it. Let the entire world work to make her miserable or, always the next logical step, explosive, but she did not have to be serious, not about anything, and she wouldn’t, because whatever was set against her would not get that validation, not ever. There was only so much lark so be cut down on, for courtesy, and she had, already. She grinned, pleased, really pleased, with the turn this stupid, unpleasant find had taken.

“Spirited as it is,” she drawled, somewhere between smug and internal eye-roll at his spooked look now, “I don’t think your soul’s in yer accent.. or yer tongue. So, pipe down, wouldn’t know what to do with either, as is. S’a book, ignoramus, let’s you hear as you read, y’know, fer learning.”

“Sawreetferthee,” he spat, then turned his nose up with a bracing breath. “No books fer mine, even if you got one fer yours,” he said, hatefully defensive, all but boiling with frustration. Chips on shoulders, stars and shades, more like boulders..

“You haven’t yet,” Riko said, rolling her eyes but at least not saying the _obviously_ out loud. “But you will, ’cause as you go through the book you’ll write down how you would say it as opposed to how the book says, literally, and at the end of it I get back both, fin, the end, fade to black.”

And he was back to staring. A very good sort of staring, too, his face completely closed up, like a freezing cold wall. Which reminded her..

“Unless of course you’d rather decline,” she smirked, “It’d be a solid load of work, so I’d understand if you’re not in-”

“Fine, you win,” he snarled, clearly aware of her play but unable to stop himself. Classic the honest poor, down to the t, poor kid.

Well, he was aware of it, that was a start; maybe he’d at least get over the honest part, in time. And for now it was handy, gave her a good in to handle his sitch-as-was, hexxed and hidden and all. Still took work, to get anything out of him, to take a hit at fixing him up, to get him to Madam Pomfrey unnoticed by the maned pests lurking round the hospital wing. At least, it had _another thing learned_ going for it, a whole list, so there was that. She waited a fair bit after shooing him into the Lair; obscured of course, even if it didn’t do a thing about the itch between her shoulders, or the cold in her bones, now that there was no immediate distraction around.

Inside, then, at their table, there were of course the questions as regards Lupin, as expected, and homework, because, no, Riko was not finished with the Transfigs essay for tomorrow, to name just one. The mood at the table was tense and after a while of unsuccessfully chasing inspiration, staring at her mess of parchments, Riko found herself shivering, the gloomy looks of her classmates not helping. With a sigh she drew her hands over her face and through her hair. She wanted to sleep for a week, at _least_ , if only not here, with the dementors’ auras so palpable and nothing to be done about it, and everything else just so completely fucked.

“What, not getting enough sleep lately, Slyver? Already working on the next great prank war by any chance?” Draco’s voice was light and teasing, even hopeful for entertainment, but there was a worried cast to his look, even over his trademark smirk.

Which, nice as it was, was just not on, so Riko just looked at him, flatly, not edged, adding at length a dust-dry “Really?” with the question mark of solid lead.

“Yeah, you look like crap, y’know,” he said brightly, droll enough to show he intended no insult, and it wasn’t just but also Tony listening in with interest, fuck.

It had her make a face, which conjured up a yawn, and she knew the grin she put on her face was a tired one. “Why thank you, _Malfoy_ , good to know I can trust your word, warts and all,” she drawled, then sighed, resigned, because he’d keep at it now, even if she deflected. “Nah, no greater pranks in the works so far,” she shrugged, “just trouble sleeping properly, with those damn dementors around. S’like a constant itch.. and you know I’m _such_ a sensitive soul an’ all.. I’m making do with an artfully arranged regiment of naps, nothin’ to it..”

Sensing the interest around the table sharpen, all but raising the hair on her neck and stone-cold limbs, Riko waved her hand dismissively, then had to politely hide another jaw-splitting yawn behind her hand.

“And on that note, dear company, I depart,” she said brightly, covering her retreat with a jaunty wave and summoning her things straight into her bag.

Messy but easily picked apart later, when she jerked up from that fucking dream again, the loss of Cheshu a raw, pulsing hole in her chest and reality hardly better than her memo- her dream.

*

Cats were not officially allowed in the library and it was that which had Amy spend the full, or rather fools’ moon’s weekend in Gryffindor. Of course there was no keeping them out, least of all Crookshanks, but since his purring was one of his most helpful skills and not at all quiet it was just not feasible. It had little to do with the skin between her shoulders prickling when she was alone in the canyons of knowledge, really. She simply knew how, when she was absorbed by her work, she wouldn’t notice a bomb going off beside her, much less react fast enough to a warning ward. And it just didn’t feel comfortable, alone, even if she knew, rationally, that she was safe, here. Besides, it was chilly, here, on your own.

Their room was right out, that was just depressing, hanging there alone with no indication of any of them showing up to join her. Even if it was always nice to be out of the tower – it cut down on the cases of conflict over, mostly, Scabbers, and Ron’s unreasonable prejudice against her cat. Why did she have to lock up Crookshanks, a cat, a natural hunter, instead of him locking in Scabbers properly. All he did was sleep, anyway. As was, she mostly kept to her dorm. The Common Room was loud enough that she could hear it even up here, and over Crookshanks’ purring, too. The best part was how she didn’t even have to do a thing for it, most of the time, since Ginny had taken her offer of hanging out.

They didn’t talk much, Amy actually sometimes forgot she was even there, so quiet was she. And, well, there _was_ the whole forgetting everything around her thing when in the throes of books. Ginny rarely did her homework on such visits, mostly she’d play with Crookshanks, or pet him until he purred loud enough to drown out even the noise outside, or doze off reading Amy’s books. At least half those cases, Amy had started to suspect, dozing off had been the goal in the first place, but commenting on it didn’t seem a good idea, likely to chase her off, and then she’d doze who knew where. And she clearly enjoyed the books, had gone through Princess Bride in hardly any time at all, had snorted and grinned at times. The Hobbit, too, but she’d been reading slower, there, Wrinkle in Time as well, and Fellowship even more so, now.

After the weekend’s complete lack of contact or proper news (Edie had sent Bill with a note that read “See you Monday, don’t worry”, which hadn’t stopped Amy from worrying in the least, and absolutely no word from Vi, or Riko, for that matter) she’d dreaded Monday. Not so much in the expectation of anything big and terrible, no, but not excluding it, with people clearly having lost all pretence of sanity, here. But nothing happened. Well, Riko sat alone in Potions, which was new, completely ignored by Snape, which wasn’t, he usually paid less attention to his side of the room, and that was it. Admittedly, Amy was a tad distracted, she hadn’t got her homework finished until early, not late, again, and Snape was being an absolute terror, and she had to make sure neither Neville nor Harry nor Ron exploded anything.

The rest of the day was Edie being more herself than she’d been all year, even holding a place for her in Runes. At first Amy worried it was because Vi and her were still on the outs but Edie said “Oh, we cleared it all up.” and Vi looked over and seemed fine with it, so, clearly, it was alright. And Amy really had enough to do to last her another lifetime, it felt; as if she were carrying that stupid evil ring and being stretched out too thin. She did notice Riko sitting alone again in Potions the next day, but in the other subjects she wasn’t, usually with Parkinson glinting angrily when you just looked over, or Nott or Zabini, both coldly ignoring any attention sent their way. Or with Malfoy, the git, who was liable to look at you like you were some ingredient of inferior make, not fit for use, at best, or like something disgusting he’d just stepped into. Asshole.

Clearly, with such great company, Riko was fine, even if she didn’t look it. Nobody did, look fine that was, and with Quidditch training starting up Amy had to spend more time in the Common Room, to make sure Harry didn’t just let his homework go to the dogs. Not that she didn’t want to spend time with her friends, not at all, but they couldn’t go to their room and take Crookshanks along because of Scabbers, and it was loud and everyone was cranky. She was no exception, Amy knew that, and she was used to being the sane one with those two, but sometimes it was hard. They usually worked, in the loosest sense of the word, on their homework only on her insistence, she didn’t think they’d ever start, otherwise, and thus only in the subjects they shared.

It meant flobberworms, for starters, and that infuriating hack of a mothwitch, and all the commentary Ron liked to add to her grisly forecasts of doom, and their shoddy approach to Astronomy maps and Charms theory, and the way they groused on about Professor McGonagall being a hard-ass, just because they didn’t get it, that you needed to know what exactly to visualize, and it was such slow going, too! But of course, even if it meant less sleep, Amy wasn’t going to turn down her friends, and it was entertaining, and distracting, and she could be sure they were doing alright. Harry was still looking peaky in intervals that had no correlation to his far too numerous training sessions in the miserable weather but turned defensive if asked on it. Still, they were usually up for a visit to Hagrid’s when she couldn’t get them to learn, so there was that.

It was in some ways better than with Vi and Edie. And Riko, too, but Amy wasn’t even sure any more what to think in that matter and thus tried her very best not to. Besides, handling those two was hard enough. Clearly they had cleared it all up, but equally clearly it had also been a severe set-back as far as relaxing around each other was concerned, only possible any more in very specific frames, which was exhausting to watch, never mind try and fix. Way over her head, that. Because of course they wouldn’t budge but neither would they have it out properly, insisting they already had, but clearly they _hadn’t_ , as both carried on much like before, with Vi still hanging with Riko but disinclined to discuss it in any kind of detail, and that was just _one_ of mines to avoid. The entire mess of the full moon was another, or rather, another handful, with the Snapescalation, and the state Riko had been in, and the stupid potion not even working right, just for starters!

And of course that, the failure of Snape’s damn potion, was where Edie was the one to turn silent and distant and the exact opposite of cooperative, despite the fact they were only trying to help! Honestly, sometimes Amy found herself wondering what she had two sets of friends for when they were clearly both insane and thicker than the castle walls! At least Edie had resigned herself to their continued interference in the matter of not being officially ill around the full moon. Grudgingly, despite Dumbledore clearly being alright with it, and that was just another mess not up for discussion. As was the fact that of course Amy would not be included in the active parts of it because Vi had made disgustingly good points about Amy being the ace in their sleeve.

Honestly, the number of things not being talked about was ridiculous, alternately stifling her or boiling up like an eruption just waiting to happen, and Amy hated it. She wouldn’t want to miss the hanging out on their not-house-days, of course, even if they mostly did homework, but it left her miserable and cold whenever she thought about it. She knew she had no time for it (hah, what irony), knew that it was her that was the problem, but she missed their trainings, the physical parts of it as much as the magical. It had always been fun, even when it turned competitive, and they’d always hung out afterwards, sharing compliments and suggestions for improvements, massaging each others backs or whatever was close, in their tangled couch-creature mess of limbs.

Now, though, she could hardly even afford the time, or the careful question, to have warms hand knead out her cramped shoulders after she’d hunched over her books for hours on end, never mind being interrupted and distracted out of her getting lost in her stacks of homework. And in her own room, much like in her house in general, it was like start of first year, for all that people took note of her. Not like she had much time to mind it, though, and Crookshanks helped, too, demanding pets when she got to sighing and brooding. Still, it was nice of Vi to be looking into the school-wide crazy. Even if she was being horribly cagey about it. What she was ready to divulge made little sense at first, until Amy slept on it a few times, and then recalled older pieces of the puzzle and mailed home, and then she had to corner her friend.

“You asked me if I’d seen Prefect Clearwater lately,” Amy started with and, not waiting for Vi to get past a startled blink, “and if I’d been by that corner again. You didn’t really lose your quill here-abouts, did you? Or did you, intentionally? Never mind, does this fit the bill?”

Amy had taken this route on purpose today, after noticing how Vi always let her lead the way when they headed for the library or even their room. So what, if this was where she’d been taken out of the game last year. There was no basilisk any more, she knew that all too well, nor any spiritual remains of Voldemort. Not here, surely. Meanwhile Vi blinked down at the held-open pages, face changing from wary to closed and neutral.

“Does it, for you?” Vi asked, at last, still unreadable but serious. And not denying it.

Amy huffed uneasily. “Why didn’t you say anything? And it only fits partly, of course, no flash backs for one,” she crossed her arms, looking expectantly at Vi.

Who seemed for a moment to consider not saying anything ever again. Honestly, she was as bad as.. anyway, Vi didn’t distract, not like that, but when she went quiet.. not today, though, even if she looked right put-upon, huffing herself, now.

“To what point and purpose would I whack you over the head with that when I have no fix, hm? Think, if you will, of those triggers: either you, or Edie, don’t get triggered yet but I make you think of it and start the trend, _without being able to fix it_ , or you do, in which case there’s still no point bringing it up _without having a fix for it_. Which, incidentally, I don’t, I’ll let you know as soon as that changes, alright!”

And that was.. well, more than usual, for one, loads more. It also had some points that clearly needed poking-at, but..

“Are you alright, Vi?” Amy asked, then promptly wanted to swallow her tongue, because if there was one way to make Vi clamp completely..

“Seriously, Amy,” Vi rolled her eyes, all dry humour and resolute enough to not mind the quote, to use it as a warning, even.

“You took notes on Binns just now! If you don’t want to talk on it, then don’t,” Amy said, hating how hurt she sounded, how hurt she _was_ , even knowing Vi’s penchant for quiet. “Just, I found something even so, and it’d help, I think, with the whole not-telling, and with Edie..”

“Amy,” Vi sighed, despairing but not unkindly, “I _am_ not-telling. And no offence, but from the tone of it this muggle book won’t help me fix it either.”

Honestly, why couldn’t any of her insane friends ever be reasonable and just agree with her sensible suggestions, why! And Amy couldn’t even dispute the second point, which left her with the first, the worst, the one that was the entire root of all their problems, right there.

“But nothing important.. nothing we should know, or should do something about, you’d tell us,” Amy said, crossing her arms.

It had Vi look at her in that shy, slightly perplexed way, somewhere between stumped and warm, that threw Amy for a loop every single, rare time (she could count the cases on one hand, the first, incidentally, back in first year, when she’d cornered Vi after that awful attack in the bathroom, and got more than she’d thought). Then Vi closed up again, looking down, shrugging as she looked up again, bone-dry composure back in place.

“Either way I’m not-telling, knowing perfectly well you’d definitely want to know..”

“Well, we always want to know everything,” Amy said shortly, only a step from tearing out her hair, “doesn’t mean we always need to get everything we want, does it.”

It got her a stare and a huff and they bumped shoulders as they set out again. Neither of them brought up the matter of the school-wide crazy, or any mine-field themes for that matter, not as they waited for Edie on their out-of-the way library table, nor when she joined them.

*

“Well, you’re clearly sitting on something, spit it out, hm,” Vi smirked on their fourth speakeasy, as Riko had named them, despite how uncomfy the weather or other circumstances tried to be.

Astronomy lessons didn’t count, obviously, nor that first terrible eye-opener. And, few as they were, they helped keep her sane much in the same way those legendary clubs had provided a much-needed valve at their time, or still did, evolved, in a way. Even if Vi’s family was a bunch of no-good shit-bags and abusing a valid idea. Point was, with how muted and cagey and tense the Lair had gotten it was a nice change to breathe and talk.

“Ta, you’re a dear,” Riko fluttered her eyelashes at her friend in actual gratitude for everything, including the forgiving wording. She was near on vibrating out of her cold, ill-fitting skin, and there Vi was, tense and clearly in some bother of her own, and still giving her the first go.

“First proper snogging, check,” Riko started with a wide smile, hoping it didn’t look as drawn as she felt even as she stretched dramatically. “Aand I got the first actual piece for that project I’m telling you nothing about, and just so you know I’m looking forward to the weekend of the next full moon now, hah!”

“Alright,” Vi eyed her with bemusement, less tense round the eyes – excellent – if only temporarily. “So, let’s hear about it then,” the Hufflepuff shot her a theatrical leer and Riko felt her face heat up, even knowing what Vi meant. Or maybe because of it.

“Frighteningly fantastic?” Riko said, meant to say, resolutely clearing her traitor throat after that pointless inflection. There was no question mark there!

Vi only blinked for a moment and Riko stared back, widening her eyes in an unspoken “what” and then crossing her arms, while her head continued heating. It was a wonder there was no smoke coming from her ears, seriously. Then Vi laughed, which, alright, was a good thing, even if it was only a short flash of half-incredulous mirth.

“Let me guess, this was a quote. You actually said that. And you’re still alive. Circe’s cauldron, Riko.. you’re.. inconceivable, alright..”

“I meant it as a compliment! It _is_ , grammar and lexicae all over are on my side! And I’ll have you know I was a pleasure to conceive! Oh, just..” Riko gestured vaguely before hiding her face in her hands, then tangled her fingers in her hair, staring out morosely between her arms, at her feet.

Vi was shaking her head, occasional traces of amusement breaking through the thoughtful look she was aiming at Riko’s shoes. “Seriously though, Riko, you meant it, yeah? So..”

“It’s alright, it is,” Riko sighed into the crook of her arms. “Don’t worry about it, alright, it was just.. it really was! Anyway, what’s your hang-up?”

It was clearly nothing as simple as Riko’s problem, which was scary, beyond scary even, as was Vi getting it, just, everything. Fuck, as if there wasn’t enough she wasn’t getting done, now there was even more that she owed Tony. For being all Tony, and not being offended despite actually understanding, and understanding it in the first place, and fuck if that wasn’t the scariest part, gods and fucking spirits, it made her want to hide in a godsdamned hole..

“It’s about Lupin,” Vi said, jerking Riko out of her descent into madness, and fuck, but that long a pause was a bad sign, as was that sigh.

“You know how he’s always creeping about, yeah,” Vi started, clearly unwilling but resigned, and as Riko got the story out of her, even if she had to fill plenty blanks herself, the world narrowed in.

“So, in summary, he was all set to tail you, you got in the way of a chase of sorts, got jumped by the Duck Squad, _while_ _he tailed_ , got dragged into the loo for whatever, and afterwards he was _still there_ , lurking, hidden, because whatever warranted tailing you did _not warrant anything else_.”

Riko was practically chewing on her tongue with all the not-saying, because she just _knew_ what sort of chase-situation that would have been (she _had_ made a point of getting at least a cursory overview regarding the firsties’ troubles), knew it’d be the reason Vi had got jumped at all, had a far too clear picture of what had to have happened in that loo to drag up involuntary magic from _Vi_ , and for all that, there was nothing she could do, and now Vi was looking even more ill at ease, and actually trying to defend that bloody bag of pond scum. Right. He couldn’t have known what they were doing in the loo, mhm. It was a girl’s loo, mhm, never mind that clearly that Periss wanker had been along or at least involved, right, there was really no reason for a teacher who clearly had access on the school gossip to do _anything at all_.

“Alright, fine, no prank war as of yet, is that alright?” Riko interrupted her friend with a finely calculated tone of put-upon appeasement.

Vi relaxed, or at least looked slightly less uneasy, and nodded. Riko nodded back, grateful her friend had told her at all.

“Ta, partner,” Riko said and poked Vi with her foot. It got her a tolerant huff of ‘Tais-toi.’ which _was_ good. “So, you already got an idea?”

Vi didn’t, but was pleased to be asked, if her warm “Oh, look who learned a lesson!” was any indication. They brainstormed a bit, until Riko judged it safe enough to bring out the payment for the History notes. It was an unfortunate timing, but then, what involving Lupin wasn’t.

“Oh, ’bout the notes, Vi, I got your end of it,” she said, fishing for and holding out the significantly less crumpled pack. “I shrunk them round lunch so it’ll hold at least til tomorrow. I wasn’t sure which you’d like, err. So.”

She dug out her own, crumpled one and lit a smoke, not-watching Vi take, open, and warily peer into the pack. Four cigarettes were substituted with still-wrapped sticks of packs. Vi’s disapproving silence had Riko sigh out the first inhale. Stars and shades, she was just so tired.

“Yeah, I know, s’rude, usually, and I’m honestly not trying anything funny, or favor-y, honestly, check if you like, s’just..”

“It seemed a good idea at the time?” Vi suggested, drily but evidently appeased enough to listen. Phew.

“Well, obviously,” Riko huffed, “but seriously, there _were_ all sorts, and I figured you could use them however, and.. I was already there and it was really not a good deal, I mean, hours and hours of Binns versus a quick trip, hardly fair, so, err, yeah, in the interest of not sharking you..”

“You’re asking me most reticently to accept this gross overpayment..” Vi shot her a warmly mocking look.

“Begging, really,” Riko grinned back broadly, giddy enough to stray into shit-eating mirth.

“Oh, well, I suppose in the interest of your conscience I shall have to take up that heavy burden,” Vi sighed dramatically.

Riko felt warm and bright and light at the levity, the lack of tension, no matter how temporary. She even managed, later, to convince Vi to not get into the chasing matter and at least try to keep out of it if it’d recur. It dampened the mood about as much as the deepening drizzle did, but even Vi ‘Well, _someone_ _ought to_ step in’ couldn’t argue that if it were _her_ to do said stepping-in, then the resulting cascade of Duck Squad interest would negate any potential short-time improvements. And of course they still had to come up with a decent plan for Lupin.

Riko had an idea she actually liked by next morning, then had to wait for the practical part of Astronomy to talk it over with Vi, and then they had to plan it properly, which meant unfortunately they wouldn’t be ready to pull it off this week. And also meant even more work, and asking Draco and Tony, in this exact constellation to avoid any kind of potential affront even if it also increased the potential cost, on the backwork of that hilarious wine-glass trick. And that meant explaining at least part of her plan, well, asking pointed, directed questions about said backwork did the explaining far better than her flat “I need to fuck up someone’s head.. only not like that, ta but no”. Their guessing, read suggesting, of deserving targets was as interesting as entertaining, and Riko had been resigned to having to disclose that anyway.

“Someone who cannot take a hint and needs to be reminded that one should be careful what one wishes,” Riko shrugged, only barely suppressing a remark on really-nothing-but-watching because they might, in the context, get that in the entirely wrong way.

They got it enough, as was, and next the hardest thing was to stop, or rather distract, them from joining in, or worse. And then work through what they told her and take in all their suggestions and then go over it all until she had a few solid rudiments to work off on and fiddle round with and then test, though that was back to group-project. When she was ready to call it workable (it was, for a day-project, which was valid in this scenario) her two collaborators eyed her sideways.

“This is still a hot mess, Riko,” Tony declared in a half-disapproving way that almost had Riko see a ghost of Amy over her shoulder, adding an “honestly” and nodding in agreement.

“It’s fine,” she shook her head, stretching and biting down a yawn. “No really, it is, it’ll do. I dare say he should be able to handle it, in his position.”

“Ye-es,” Draco drawled, leaning back into amused spectator mode, “ _that_ is surely what Cera meant to say..”

He didn’t go so far as to actually play the concern angle so he wasn’t too worried, which made Riko smugly warm. It _was_ fine anyway, and if the arguments she used to convince them were not the actual reasons it was fine, that was beside the point entirely, since she was in fact not alone on this trip, and with Vi in on it they could take breaks, and besides, it was worth it. And also necessary to not wait forever, the connection had to be noticeable in some reasonably obvious way, him being a mane, though a crooked one. Not as rare as people liked to think, that.

By the end of Lupin’s big day, next Thursday, Riko was such a complete zombie she had to curl up in a running hot bath before even crawling away from the Lair, to huddle against a still almost-skeletal komainu and get at least half a night of sleep. It also marked the first reappearance of that dumb rehash dream of that time she’d almost died by Volde-face, which was simply a ludicrous thing to dream of now, seriously.

As usual Seiya took it quietly, and once she’d got through her rambling, because, no, there was no going back to sleep quickly and she was of no mind to brood on the embarrassing way she’d almost ended up dead for absolutely nothing, on stupid _accident_ , OR on Professor Snape, who had after all saved her life even if he was right now a complete terror, in any kind of way or context or shape or form, so, once she’d got ready to drift off again she’d also decided to get a fire bowl or similar down here. Before the weekend, that way he at least had some warmth if she couldn’t do her usual delivery and reminding, as he still tended to forget eating, broody clam that he was.

*

Amy was not schadenfroh, really, when Professor McGonagall told Harry he couldn’t go to Hogsmeade, that she would not sign his form, and not allow it either way. The Professor didn’t mention Black but it was so obviously part of the reason, not to mention she couldn’t start making such exceptions, really, Harry should have known better. But he’d just had to listen to Ron, didn’t he, always going along with his official best friend. And she wasn’t envious or anything, honestly, it was to be expected, she was a girl, she wasn’t in his room, and she was hanging out with other people, too. Still, it hurt, that Harry never spoke out on her side, only ever generally appeasing, as if that wasn’t the same as being on Ron’s side.

Like yesterday: there was absolutely no reason for Ron to fly off the handle like that, and Harry had not said a word! Not then and not today, with Ron acting like a prat all during breakfast and Herbology, and there wasn’t much that was more embarrassing than a housemate ragging on you while the corridor filled with Slytherins. Amy was sorry for Lavender, she really was, but there was no point and no sense in crediting that hack mothwitch with predicting the death of her rabbit when she’d only received the letter today, which meant it’d happened already, and.. gah!

At least Riko wasn’t here to hear it, although Parkinson glinting proudly down her nose at their group probably meant she would gleefully narrate everything to everyone before the day was over. Great. The snobby harpy again declared Riko’s illness as if it were a matter of pride, which rankled, and after the lesson, all the way to lunch, Ron was cursing Professor McGonagall for not letting Harry wander to his doom. Vi and an Edie-fied Riko were far better company during the meal, better than Ron and better than the last full moon, no less so since Snape didn’t deign to look in their direction even once. They were a bit quiet but enough of their respective selves that Amy could put it down to tiredness.

Potions was their last lesson for today, as Professor Lupin had moved today’s lesson to yesterday rather than use a substitute again, and a good thing, too. Snape was in a terrible temper and it was all that Amy could manage to keep quiet, and Neville from exploding his cauldron. At least Malfoy was back to cutting his own ingredients. If he’d tried again to send Harry after Black she wasn’t sure what she’d do but it wouldn’t be pretty. Also, this way she could help them get their potions right, or at least right-ish, without need to worry about a tattling brat. After the lesson that didn’t seem to want to end Ron shocked her half to death when he quietly helped her clean her cauldron under the icy water pouring from one of the twisty gargoyle faces over the giant stone basin.

“I know a few tricks by now,” he shrugged with one of his shy, embarrassed smiles, “got enough experience. Anyway, we’re still on for Hogsmeade, right?”

She couldn’t stay mad with him most days anyway, and certainly not then, so she nodded. And he actually agreed to come with to the library, and neither he nor Harry got pissy when she dragged them to the in-view table Vi had staked out for today. There wasn’t much conversation, of course, not even after Riko-as-Edie showed up, but Snape was at last useful in some way, namely a unifying factor to detest, even if Edie-as-Riko was a very Edie kind of reluctant about it.

They stayed there until dinner and Amy congratulated herself that dragging the two boys along had helped their homework and also helped Riko focus on being Edie, and she was actually starting to look forward to visiting Hogsmeade. She knew the other Untouchables had already been there, though not enough to scout it properly, and now it was time to check it all out. A whole village only for folk like them, it was bound to be just fascinating! It had her agree without regret to Riko’s shaded nudge to head to the Gryffindor table, answering the easy-going “Phew, I’m beat for today, but maybe we’ll see each other tomorrow in the village?” with a cheery “Sure!” and not worry overly much about it.

*

The moons that lasted until round the solar noon were always tricky, Edie knew that, but she still resented that she had to let Vi drag her to the hospital wing before even the fist lesson on account of being too dead to stop her. Ugh. That was another potion grade failed with Troll, for sure. But Madam Pomfrey was so reassuringly normal and matter-of-fact over the day as she gave Edie all sorts of tea and herbal rolls, that Edie could almost believe it would be alright. She even got her nerve up to ask if she’d really snarled at her, last time, even after she’d turned back already.

“Well, that’s good, that you recalled it,” the mediwitch said, so practical that Edie just knew it was meant to be bracing. And it was, too, as Madam Pomfrey went on with nary a pause. “Even with a delay. You should tell, or better make a list, hm, when you remembered what, it’s bound to help, and he can always ask if he has any questions.”

And wasn’t that the most tactful way to comment on Snape’s – on the entire Snape situation, really. Especially when the mediwitch assured her immediately that, as the actual healer at hand, she would of course be present the entire time, unless Edie had any objection. Edie had none, but even so she dreaded the appearance of the potions master. Which meant, of course, when he showed it was entirely anti-climatic. Typical, although of course he still managed to be entirely horrible, and without interacting with her, too, which just proved.. that he was Snape, the bloody nutter.

It wasn’t her fault she’d been dozing, after all, or that Madam Pomfrey had intercepted him immediately when he entered, and given him the list Edie had spent the better part of the day working on, which had no small part in why she was dozing right then. She’d sat up as soon as she noticed him, what did he expect, that she greet him loudly, with him over there and her throat already burning enough that even breathing hurt? Apparently, although he’d probably be judging her if she did, too, from how cold he’d been, all but throwing the flask with the potion at the mediwitch, remarking acidly on the required minimum amount to ingest. As if that had any chance of being the problem. Or any “non-authorized ingestibles” either, no wonder Madam Pomfrey all but threw him out then.

Still, he was gone, the potion had been worked on, things were bound to be better than last time, for sure. Nothing got worse or stayed the same if you put effort in it, right, and Snape had, there was no doubt there, it was a principle thing, she thought. And just look at her and Vi, perfect proof, really.

She tried, very hard, not to think of Riko then, or anything at all, later, while cowering in the room, not a cell, _not a cell_ , curled up against the cold stone, the air roiling and pressing like actual particles, which, well, it was, in a way but that (air atoms) was not the point. She couldn’t even remember the last time the Slytherin had looked at her, all she could recall were instances of lowered eyes. But Vi had been insistent that Riko was not backing down on helping out with this, so that had to mean something, right. Had to.

Then the tearing pain started up. It was not better, but she lost that thought quickly, together with all the others, faster even than last time.

*

“Listen, can you do tonight and the next? I’ll do the day-part tomorrow, show her round the village, and Sunday she ought to be well enough again, right? Only I got to.. take care of something, yeah, told ya I was lookin’ forward, and it wasn’t on account of this all here..”

Vi looked evenly at her friend, who was still masquerading as her other friend but at the same time so recognisably herself that it had her worry immediately. There was nothing further forthcoming, though, so she sighed and nodded. Put her hands in her pockets, though.

“You doing alright,” she said, paying very close attention to the little pebble between her fingers but also her friend’s answer.

Riko rolled her eyes and waved vaguely. “S’fine, I’m alright, no reason to worry, alright. Just a bit under the weather. The git didn’t go to bed early and, as I said, I still gotta take care of a few things beforehand. - S’aright if you’d rather not, chill, I’ll get it done either way. Chill, I said!”

It was one of those cases where you had to pay attention to more than just the pebble, take the words and tone as guides and even then you had to know enough background to get anywhere. Circe’s cauldron, Slytherins! They just had to be as contrary as they could.

“Chill yourself,” Vi said, and also rolled her eyes. “It’s no problem, I’ll do it. Are you sure you got it covered for your house, though?”

In the end she had three hairs to fabricate sightings of her friend if necessary, and a scant few hints that did not reassure in the least about what Riko was getting herself into. Next day they made a point of being checked off Filch’s list as they left by the main entrance, then took a stealthy turn and went by the tunnel to the Shrieking Shack. No need to pass the dementors at the gates. They had to wait, once in the village, but they made sure to be seen in the most frequented shops, and then Riko just disappeared. Not without notice, of course, but with no real hint as to where or what for or what the bloody fuck, off-shore fun, what was that even supposed to mean! At least Amy seemed to be having a good time of it with Weasley.

Of course Vi couldn’t let herself be seen after that, alone, not until it was time that a return to Hogwarts was reasonable to assume, and then she’d better find a reason for herself to be in the hospital wing soon. Well, at least one thing Fina and the others were good for, and in the mean time she could properly dig through the Vine Room, being in less of a temper than last time. There was definite potential in the seeds she’d found in the most-recently-used pots, hemp seeds, heh..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dunno how neccessary it is that I keep repeating it, so yeah, maybe it's just for myself, I mean I did subjectivity right there in the tags.. but: no, during this year nobody in the castle or around the castl is entirely any kind of sane. dementors, yeah. distorting and warping effects on what you perceive and interpret and thus on how you decide to act and.. yeah.. *shrug*


	16. A Hopeful Hallowe’en.. Maybe

Amy had to stop Ron from walking into the Three Broomsticks first thing, and it had her, even on this brilliant day, worried, just a little. Because Ron hardly ever took directions well. But he went along with her agreeably and they got back to discussing the matter of Black and Harry and what the hell Malfoy had been on about, boasting about how he’d hunt the man down if he were in Harry’s place. The thing was, Amy had a good idea on the why, and she had no small worry that Harry would indeed do exactly that if he knew what she’d concluded so far. She had no _exact_ sources, of course, could easily say she didn’t _know_ because she only suspected parts of it, but she wanted to talk with Ron about it because he often knew Harry better where such guts-first decisions were concerned. And it’d help to have him in on it, too.

“So, you’re saying they were all in the same year,” Ron repeated, “Black, and Lupin, and Harry’s parents.”

Amy nodded.

“And they looked friendly,” he went on, the last two words sounding incredulous but not disbelieving. “Blimey, I never knew we had stuff like that in our house library, I could look up Mum and Dad! And Bill, and Charly! Anyway, so, they were friends. That’s pretty..”

Amy nodded again. “Yes, clearly he went bad, and in combination with what Malfoy said he must’ve had something to do with..”

“With You-know-who getting them, you mean? We can’t really know, though. I mean, it’s Malfoy we’re talking about. He’s just full of crap..”

Amy agreed, relieved. She really didn’t want to tell Harry. Clearly Ron didn’t, either. And Harry hadn’t asked again, or said anything about it.

Ron got over his Malfoy-related ranting soon enough as they went down the high street, only occasionally teasing about her enthusiasm or answering her various exclamations. It could have been embarrassing but wasn’t; he just was in a good mood with her and the world, and that had become a rare enough occurrence that Amy enjoyed it all the more – it wasn’t even raining today! They pressed their noses to the big windows of Dervish & Banges, trying to come up with potential uses of the various implements. Well, Amy did, mostly, often corrected by Ron, but there were plenty he didn’t know either. They didn’t enter Dogweed and Deathcap, either, as Amy didn’t want their first stop to be one that would probably bore Ron to tears. They could have a look into the Herbology shop later, on the way back.

Besides, the village and it’s architecture were amazing in it’s weirdness, as expected, and she even recognized different styles, the crenellated edges there, and there, the tilt of that gable, or that one, their different shapes, also of the window panes, of the arches, the window ledges and shapes. The angles and slopes, much like the Burrow, made consistent mockery of such trite things as gravity, traction, or distribution of weight. You could see traces of various eras on different houses, too, as if some had jumped or ignored a trend or two, or were still a few steps behind. Of course Ron rolled his eyes at her when she started gabbing architecture, but he looked pleased enough as they neared Zonko’s Joke Shop, recommended highly and continuously by the twins. Amy nudged him with a wink, enjoying his startled laugh as they hurried forward.

“Let’s be quick, before the horde arrives, hm?” she said, almost giddy enough to start jumping in place.

“Yeah, yeah, can’t let anyone see perfect Hermione Granger visit such an improper shop,” Ron said, but nicely, holding the door open with a bow.

“Thank you, good sir,” Amy ladied inside, “you are quite right, of course, and surely you don’t want people to see what you buy, do you?”

“It would be sad, to rob the deserving masses of their surprises,” he answered, dusting imaginary lint from his sleeve in a parody of Malfoy manners.

She couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up and it set the tone for the rest of the day. It was terribly hard to decide what to buy, not just there but also, even more so, at Honeydukes, where they could also spend more time. No need to make a secret of what they were buying, there. They did a lot of window-shopping too, merely luring into Gladrags Wizardwear and Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop, both not their cup of tea at all. Ron went back to being amused when she went back to pointing at gables and arches, clearly not just a little pleased when she couldn’t help her enthusiasm for the Burrow, which was after all more clearly magical than most of the houses here, as far as disregard of stable architecture went. Amy only regretted she didn’t have a camera. It would be great to send some of the views to her parents, she’d driven them half mad over the holidays, even Dad had got a dazed look a few times.

Some shops they more or less ignored, the butcher, for one, and the greengrocer’s, others they passed but ogled with different degrees of interest, such as Barmy’s Barbarie and Battorie yon Blacksmythe. Some they entered with admittedly touristly interest, the Post Office, for example, and Scrivenshaft’s Quill Shop, and some they visited with varied degrees of interest, only venturing in for the other, hovering uneasily. Tomes and Scrolls might have eaten Amy for the entire day if she hadn’t had Ron and, admittedly, her watch along. She’d set an alarm to the exact length of time they’d previously spent at the Spintwitches, a shop that had caught Ron with it’s varied display of sporting goods, mostly quidditch of course. They arrived back the Three Broomsticks well into afternoon, thirsty and cold but not hungry; they had taste-tested a lot at Honeydukes.

They’d spent a probably unreasonable amount of time in the sweet shop, but they had to bring Harry some and therefore had to take a proper look at everything and decide if he might like it. Amy didn’t have much of a sweet tooth; her parents hadn’t by any stretch forbidden her sweets, but they had made sure she knew all about how badly they affected your teeth and mouth bacteria and growth and what-not. But with the fantastic offering, magical in the best, everyday way, she came away with a good-sized bag for her own, even if it was far smaller than both Ron’s and the one for Harry, and the content less colourful.

Some dark chocolates and tiny black Pepper Imps that let you spew fire (she’d got Harry some too because it didn’t get more satisfying magical, she thought). Also some of the strange, splintery Toothflossing Stringmints, a good sized bundle, as she wanted to find out what it was made of and how it could be a sweet but at the same time a proper toothfloss, maybe send some to her parents, who would roll their eyes but still love it. And a handful of Sugar Quills, and different Jelly Slugs, and of course the few Eye Candy she’d decided on, and some Fizzing Whizzbees and Humming Humbugs, mostly for when Ginny would come by again.

The pub, smaller than the Leaky Cauldron, was near bursting, and even with the number of students they had seen so far it was overwhelming: loud and crowded and chaotic. Warm, though, and as they looked around, heading per default towards the bar, Neville, Dean, and Seamus called them over to their table. Jana and Alanna stood, ceding their seats as they still had _some errands to run_. By now Zonko’s was probably rather empty again. The butterbeer was as pleasant as when Riko had got it for them in bottles last year and the mood on the table warm and easy as they talked about what they had tested at Honeydukes, what they had bought where, and who they had seen with who doing what. Madam Rosmerta was as cheery and expansive as Riko had said, and her humouring Ron’s stunned looks the sort of hilarious that had Amy hide her mouth behind her mug.

Mind, plenty other boys were much the same, and not just on their table either, while the girls she saw had a more varied spectrum reacting to the inkeep. Not as one might have expected in a muggle pub with a barmaid like Madam Rosmerta, though, which was interesting. It was more like the usual, to-be-expected reactions of the girls had been added to those of the boys, many flirting or joking back cheerfully, and the witch clearly knew what tone to take with whom, but how..

“Hey there, earth to Hermione!” Dean called her back from her anthropological musings. “You sleeping with your eyes open? In here?”

“Probably looking for your girl friends, to escape our boorish talk of broomsticks and kits,” Ron joked without any bite, looking if anything a bit sheepish. “You see them around? I thought you wanted to meet with them today, I bet they’d make better company over at the bookstore..”

“Oh, no, it’s alright,” Amy waved it away, feeling suddenly even warmer. “They were at Honeydukes. You were busy in the creepy crawly corner so I went over to them, they were by the nougat wall, and we tested through some of the chocolates. They were already headed for the music shop and I wanted to have a look at the Cockroach Clusters and the different Eyeball treats, so there you are, stuck with me.”

“So you didn’t go to Dominic Maestro’s? It’s really neat, and they had some older MCs on a sale,” Seamus said.

“Oh, we did, but it was awfully crowded so we only had a short look,” Amy said, Ron adding, “Mind, I didn’t think it was that grand, anyway.”

“Which is why I expect I’ll be visiting it with my girl friends next time,” Amy finished easily.

Ron shrugged, took another big gulp of his still-steaming butterbeer and the four went back to talking broomsticks. It was interesting, in a theoretical way, to hear of the different makes, as Amy had been thinking to buy one for a while. But they were horribly expensive new and she had little to no clue so buying used was a bad idea and, well, just like the thought of having an owl was nice but she’d ended up with Crookshanks, the thought of having her own broom was nice, but this was the last year of flying lessons and there were always interesting books to buy first.

They went back in pulk, which made the dementors against all sanity no less menacing, nor their effect any less awful, leaving her cold and uneasy until they were back in the Entrance Hall. Then they found Harry moping in the common room and had to cheer him up before wandering down to dinner. Mostly for Harry’s benefit, although Amy made sure to eat some proper food, just to make sure Finny wouldn’t fret. Ron certainly had no problem eating while telling Harry all about Hogsmeade and Amy had to take care to jump in often enough, to keep him from painting too brilliant a picture.

Harry had looked surprised and pleased at the mixed bag of sweets they had brought him, and of course he’d wanted to know what they’d done, but that didn’t mean they had to make it out as the best thing on earth when he couldn’t go there, honestly.

*

Leaving the airport of Hamburg, Riko felt as if the fresh wind whipping around her was blowing away the last remains of the misanthropic mief that had set up in her bones. There was a spring in her step that had her skip along, only just not whistling to preserve her Obscurantis. It was, in part, on account of the ohrwurm, because this went past catchy tune, that had sneaked up on her on the plane. Not breaking her stride, heh, got her into one of the buses headed for the city centre with no trouble at all, Saturday afternoon clearly not the most frequented time for travellers to arrive. All the better, really.

She’d collected hair off a passenger in the plane, but that was plan B, and Plan A had worked out fine. She still wasn’t going to waste resources just because of that. In such places you were bound to catch someone nodding off and thus she had, just to be sure, two blood-activated Polyjuice for a slim fellow with the typical, anglo-saxon complexion and a decent number of his hairs for fall-back. She even had an idea on his sizes, though he’d started mumbling when she shifted his feet. No matter though, he’d settled down again, and she’d made a clean getaway, and her first goal in the city was going to be a department store, just as planned. She’d gone over how one would or could trace a person often enough over the last few weeks to come up with a number of cuts, and this, this here was something she could do, could handle, was bloody good at, if she said so herself, and it was progress at long last, hah!

A second sufficient outfit in a separate bag in her rucksack, which was in turn again in a different rucksack, Riko stretched her decidedly longer legs, wriggled her fingers as she swept back her decidedly different hair, swivelled her feet and shoulders, and generally tested her changed field of motion as she made for one of the entrance ways into Koogskoog, the Trefflkrog just off Adolphsbrücke. The way it occupied the left cornerspace of the bridge was truly marvellous, Amy would fall in love, Riko though, with how it folded the space around it, considering that to muggle eyes the corner was just that, a massive corner of an equally massive, though not as boringly bland as its neighbours, building.

Except Amy would probably kill her when next they talked, as Riko was bound to tell her about the damn cueroscope. Regardless of this depressing reminder, hastily relegated to an out-of-the-way corner, Riko was pleasantly surprised once she entered. The heavy darkwood door with the small grated window didn’t exactly scream welcome, but the inside, well, proved the old adage about covers. Only the lower half of the walls was panelled and although the wood was dark it was a warm brown, not black, and the whitewashed walls and few seascapes hung in simple frames made the room bright and welcoming. The commons was wide and looked even more so with the tables set by the walls, which were lined with well-polished benches all around. The patrons, even those alone, didn’t pay her more heed than a polite nod without it coming off as any sort of odd.

Riko used the remains of her current hair-based dose of, she had decided, Richard Schneider, to rent a room for the night and take a bit of tea and gossip from the Innkeep. The tall, middle-aged fellow introduced himself as Hannes and looked, even with his slight stomach bulge, fit enough to sail off with any visiting ship, all takes.

For the remainder of the day Riko had to work hard to stay professional instead of letting her giddy mood get away from her. She visited, as planned, the café she was set to meet her contact in tomorrow, an entirely normal muggle establishment with a decent cocoa on the menu. When she threw a coin it told her to leave the Alster side for another time and instead explore what made Hamburg by all accounts a gateway to the world. There were several connected ports and Riko knew, well, had been in ports before, alright, but not like this. This was just brilliant, was fantastic, really, and brought again to the fore all her dreams of becoming a pirate, freebooter, buccaneer, all those different ships, one more impressive than the other, from sleek and ready to cut through the air like a dragon to wide and loaded to bursting and everything inbetween.

Some of the differences in port and landing was by how watery the water in the basin was, some ships constructed so thoroughly for travel by air that their hulls would suffer from any number of problems if stuck in normal-density water, others by cargo, by membership in whatever merchant guild or group, and probably a dozen other status indications she had no way of knowing, which didn’t make any of it less fantastic. For the packs of kids – not just a few, local and ship-bound alike – she was Raiko from Hokkaido, just another tourist brat but easygoing enough and honestly impressed and interested in what they were on about. Treats and Tricks, mostly, and of course rivalries of all sorts and just.. fun.

Night arrived far too quickly for her liking although she knew she should take any chance for a break, even with the giddy energy buzzing through her. But there was no escaping her own plan, so she headed back, at length, to the Trefflkrog, once again Herr Schneider, this time using, out of necessity, the eight-hour, blood-activated version. No way around it if she wanted to get properly used to this guise, which she really had to if she wanted this to work. The meeting with Tonks during summer had shown that. She had her Runes work along but after testing her face in the bathroom mirror Riko crashed as soon as she sat on the bed.

Her alarm woke her at the insane hour of nine, which was halfway to midday, gods and spirits, she’d actually slept the entire bloody night! Mind, she still felt like she could sleep another week, for the while it took her brain to get started properly, then she was again almost vibrating with pent-up energy. Clearing out of the inn had mission calm settle over her, though, a fine net of sparking quicktime focus as she again exchanged pleasantries with Hannes over a very decent breakfast while also going, internally, over the steps of her list and surveying the variables under her control.

Back out and in her own skin, the very idea of doing homework while here, in this city, in this setting, this entire sitch, looked in the light of day and the context of the still mostly-unexplored ports, not to mention the entire Koogskoog – an equal to Diagon by all accounts – entirely absurd, and so Riko made sure her possessions were all ordered and stored as planned, set the required alarms on her watch, and went to enjoy the day.

*

When Richard Schneider entered the same café that had yesterday served a fairly decent cocoa to an entirely unremarkable girl, he asked at the counter for a reservation to Greek. The waiter led him to one of the tables further in, where he was already expected, despite being perfectly on time. The man, Greek, stood in greeting and they shook hands, the waiter leaving after placing a second menu on the table. Greek, spoken with a long, local e, eyed Schneider thoughtfully through his small-lensed glasses and Schneider returned the favour through his own charmed, prescription-free set.

Glass was the common carrier for charms looking through glamours, Riko had been interested to learn – even if a lot had come down to experimenting, with tips from Vi, to make the most of what the official books told you. She’d also gone to the trouble of imbuing her own set well in advance, as Vi had shared her far more detailed info on what the ministry knew of any wand sold by its official partners, which Ollivanders was. Schneider was wearing one of her usual faerie glamours, ostensibly to hide the traces of jet-lag caused fatigue. In return, Greek looked under his own glamour exactly the same and was thus, clearly, about as true as Schneider’s own appearance. With another polite nod Schneider took off her glasses.

“Well met, or would you prefer German? I’m afraid my Spanish would not be up to anything beyond the bare necessities,” she said.

“Neither is my first, so let’s just stay with what’s on the invitation, hm,” shrugged the supposedly wizened, greek-looking fellow in his practical but also stereotypically greek and conservative get-up. The cueroscope hung dead and limp and didn’t twitch in the slightest.

“Same here, so yes, let’s,” Schneider agreed easily, focus sharpening and blood singing in gleeful excitement.

“The tea is drinkable, but the coffee is the only thing I feel I can honestly recommend,” Greek said, waving his menu lightly before placing it down.

“Always good to know that,” Schneider eye-balled the menu quickly, then also signalled her readiness to order.

Two Espresso ordered, they again regarded each other thoughtfully over the empty table. Then Greek pulled with studied slowness a small notebook out of his jacket and started a fresh entry while occasionally looking over the rim of his glasses, a move that would hopefully, at some time in the future, not remind Schneider in the most terrifying way possible of Dumbledore. He also talked, and not like Dumbledore at all, which helped.

“Now, just to make sure there was nothing lost under way, what you are looking for is – of the legendary beautiful Myconos.”

At Schneider’s nod and “Quite”, he was leaning back and carefully at ease, hands and forearms on the table, Greek nodded as well. “It is of course possible, but surely you are aware of how unique and precious a commodity it is. I couldn’t estimate an amount if I wanted, such a rarity being literally priceless,” he stated, factual but also expertly leading.

“Sure,” Schneider shrugged with just enough almost-bored indifference to not be insulting, “but no matter the origin, it’s far from singular in regards of rarity. And seeing how that _is_ well inside your field I’m confident we can.. come to the classical, mutually beneficial agreement.”

“Hm,” Greek said, though it had the air of a nod to it. “There is of course any number of rarities in demand at any given time, true enough. For example, word is that a descendant of the famous Glinda Southerly is working on a book on one of her famous, supposedly lost, notebooks. The two bee ex four ee, I believe, in her set on the exploration of circles and their various singularities. It has all the scholars atwitter. Or, more classical and closer to the other end of the scale, the infamous empire nephrite, though I admit that one might leave me in your debt.”

“Hm,” Schneider replied, mind whirring to properly store it all for later and at the same time evaluate the offer. “Good examples as far as catching interest goes. Of course even the most ardent interest needs proper examination, and I couldn’t stand to leave a fellow hanging.”

“Mhm,” was the reply this time, carrying simultaneously more scrutiny and goodwill than before. “We wouldn’t profit from another prolonged period of second-hand communication, quite right. Once was alright but let’s not make a habit of it. My current number,” and he drew a card from his book, sliding it over with an air of first apology, then friendly reprimand as he added drily, “Mind keeping up with the times, eh.”

The familiar shape of number sets, runes as separators, seemed to wink at Schneider from the thick paper. She almost winked back. “Sure will,” she gave Greek a dry, unhurried smile and drew the matching card out of her sleeve, placing it down before retrieving his.

She wasn’t going to keep it, of course, not beyond a curious poking, number memorized already, account good for a fortnight, very well. Her own she was hoping to keep for the entire matter, though it was currently paid for a week only. Better extend that as soon as she was sure on this offer. Their drinks arrived then and Schneider paid them immediately, despite her perfectly-functioning mission-mode glad for the diminutive size of the cups. Of course she used the sugar that came with it, the smell was sharp enough to warn her for that, and drew a furtive rune as she stirred. All clear though, and once the little island of sugar had sunk down and dissolved, it tasted pleasant enough to keep it in mind.

Greek rose as soon as they had finished, which was quick enough, to excuse himself toward the toilet, and they shook hands in farewell. Then Riko was busy making as inconspicuous an exit and disappearance as she felt was humanly possible. Of course she was still stuck as Schneider for, give or take, half an hour, but the time could be used to poke at the card for any trace of magic and taking a stroll to and around the Binnenalster. Another set of steps that were, possibly, admittedly, paranoid, or, well, at least paranoia-driven (there had been nothing on the card, beyond a simple trigger to self-disintegrate) had Riko arrive back in her dorm, harried and in an unreasonably twitchy temper.

Her plan had worked, after all, even with the plane late and crowded, leaving her stuck on the ceiling. Progress had been made, and the next steps were simple enough to deduce.

But that was it, again, that damned disconnect. Between what she knew would make sense, would be her, was to be expected, be it for herself, her housemates, her friends, or just about anything this entire year, versus the actual reality. This eerie distance that separated her from using her means of action, her usual tools to change what didn’t suit her, what was in far too many cases entirely unacceptable and needed to be fixed, stat. And it wasn’t even just the mess with the firsties, though that had her mad enough to spit fire and nails. Fuck, even last year during that spat with Draco she hadn’t felt as isolated and caged-in as she did this year.

It was, in part, a big part, of course Lupin’s fault. But even in her own dorm she felt just about ready to jump out of her skin, alternately miserable and murderous. When neither was in any way acceptable! Yes, she was cold and tense enough that even her intestines went with the trend, all of it for NO reason, but she wasn’t hurt or anything less than in working order, and there was NO reason for it to affect her like this. Neither huddling in a blanket nor exploding at the nearest, undeserving and potentially dangerous, person was a valid option, none of it would fix anything at all, none of it was her, usually, if she were herself, k’soh.

In a last ditch effort to not go completely nuts after the very sane and productive days she’d had, Riko threw her entire gear in the hidden third compartment of her trunk and tried to drown her madness in a tub of nearly-boiling water, taking only a fresh, secret-proofed notebook and pencil along. The relevant info, such as numbers and research points, was better off in a separate container, which could be destroyed with no collateral losses.

*

Edie had no recollection of Saturday, nothing she’d call proper recollection anyway. The first memory she could put into any sort of relation, that had a proper time line and such attached, was from this night, which meant she had lost an entire day.

There were of course various terrifying snatches of different kinds of terrible techni-colour but that didn’t make it better, in any way, at all. She’d have to go over them, poke at them, try and analyse them, and not even just for Snape. But not now. Ever since she’d first woken, really woken, aware and able to recall it afterwards woken, it was all she could do to keep it together. Against the lurking fear in the back of her mind more than the pain, really, although the pain and the wretched weakness would have been bad enough to weather properly. The pressure on her mind was worse than even this horrible mess, which was really the nicest thing she could call her body right now, but at least that mess was bad enough to keep her occupied.

This was in no way a criticism against Madam Pomfrey, not in the least. It was, in a depressingly resigned way, far less terrible than last month, when the mediwitch had worked furiously against completely unforeseeable obstacles. This time Edie’s suddenly diminished receptivity to several healing staples, and adversity to certain other ingredients, came as no surprise. It still took far longer than she was used to, to get even just a little better, but at least Edie knew she _was_ going to get better. It made the getting-there no less unpleasant. The teeth, no, the entire front of her right jaw was still pulsing, despite Madam Pomfrey’s modified version of the appropriate pain-numbing charm. Not to mention her stupid ellbow, she didn’t even want to look at that.

Well, she did, had at length, in fact, as soon as Madam Pomfrey had furrowed her brow at it in a mix of consternation and interest, and it was quite fascinating to watch. But of course it was under the bandage now and she was under orders not to mess with it. So, to be exact, looking was not the problem, she didn’t want to talk about it, which was going to happen if it was looked at, by others, so yes, there was that. Good bandage, even if Madam P tutted. Especially as the mediwitch was already tutting over something different, tutting differently, too, and less put-upon than last month, which was also a relief. Less tolerant than last year, still, but then, this year was anything but tolerable anyway. Then Vi, well, Edie herself rounded the screens.

“Hey there, Vi, sorry for the wait. I got hung up in the library, but I got all the notes here, so there’s that,” Vi greeted her with a disturbingly accurate and disturbingly cheerful imitation of herself.

Edie rolled her eyes, at Vi’s performance as much as at her terribly stressed state. Hidden as it might be for most anyone, she was not anyone; not only did she know Vi, there was really no escaping her senses, even with the mad monkey on the volume dial.

“Shut it, you, s’aright,” she returned the favour, grateful her throat was still mangled enough to give it, with some work, a proper Vi sound.

It drew a huff and a careful look from her friend, but Vi was nice enough not to worry at her, out loud, first thing, and instead drew up a chair, sitting down as herself. Always considerate, Vi, when she wasn’t being obsessively stubborn and-or contrary.

“He did fail your potion, sorry,” Vi said, or rather mumbled, as she dug a bag out of Edie’s own book bag before handing over the latter. “Are you alright to go over the notes, or’d you rather chill a bit, first? You said you were good on homework so I brought your book and some music, oh, and some stuff from your excursion to Hogsmeade. And your cards, of course, there, by the quills. Ah, no that’s me. Er, if that’s alright?”

You couldn’t get more matter-of-course than Vi, really, even about asking if she was welcome beyond the insane service she had set herself to. The only thing that kept Edie from rolling her eyes again was that they still hurt from earlier. The worry didn’t go away, though.

“Put yours up here, too, and your feet, that’s the only bandage, so chill,” she invited, “and tell me of my adventures, will you? Madam Pomfrey said I get to go the feast as long as I don’t overdo it, and with you here now that’s guaranteed certainty, so, let out your hat, hm?”

Better than asking what was wrong, with Vi, always, and neither making herself at home nor letting her hair down would do, after all. This did, Vi complying even as she shot her that look. The one Edie had so enjoyed back in first year, because of its air of warm approval after extensive consideration of each and every little part. Over the last month, although it was still a good sign, she’d started to despair of it.

Not to hate it, or only sometimes, lying awake and thinking on the past day, going over every little interaction, weighting everything. It was just.. different, now, with Vi clearly working so hard to, hm, manage, might be the best word, though Edie was only too aware she didn’t even know what exactly. Or what Vi was getting up to, or planning. Look after them, be a good friend, keep quiet on privates, was it a list? In what order?

“Don’t mind if I do,” Vi drawled, warmly, lazily, and _then_ ran a cleaning charm over her shoes before putting up her feet up.

Edie did roll her eyes again at that, even if it hurt. But as Vi talked her through the interaction notes of her missed time she found herself relaxing, the matter-of-fact way Vi treated the problem making it ordinary, manageable. It wasn’t real, of course, this sense of safety, and did little against the lingering, smouldering resentment filling a person-shaped hole and creeping up to cling every-so-often to her current companion, but it was still nice. Not quite as nice was Vi still being worried about _some_ thing, though clearly not about Edie and keeping it down very well. But, well, there was no getting away from Edie’s senses right now, or the fact that she knew Vi well enough to know when she was tense and worried, if nothing else.

It wasn’t Amy, which was worrying, as Vi described the same worrisome state, “still busy, set her a timer to come by, she can’t be living on snacks the whole day even with the feast today” in the usual way, with no change in level of worry. And apparently nothing was up in her friend’s house. Madam Pomfrey had left them alone for a delayed lunch break, there were currently no other patients, _and_ Vi had activated one of her Privacy Pebbles, so Edie figured she could ask Vi without her friend getting all twitchy and paranoid. There weren’t even any portraits around them.

“So, how is Riko?” Edie said, quietly and with some reluctance.

“Alright, I expect,” Vi said, after a beat and already leagues into wary neutral, which meant Edie had been right. “Why do you ask?”

Oh dear. But it wouldn’t get better by itself, not to mention she really had to know now, never mind remove some of those mines, perhaps.

“Well. You seem worried – and..”

“..and?” Vi prompted her when she hesitated at the look, the quiet air and watchful stance she got just for that, her friend clearly tracing the course of the previous questions and growing no less wary from it. Not judgemental ever, her, but her wary was almost as bad, and still stung.

“And I still worry about her, alright, even when I’m apparently dead to her, and after last time..”

Vi stared at her for an uncomfortable amount of time but Edie refused to dig any further, it was a valid question. Answer. Not that Vi seemed quite sure what to even think, which was again galling, because what had Edie missed this time, and had she missed it or was it just yet another secret!

“There is at present no need for you to worry about Riko,” Vi said, at length and with a dry humour that had a thick wall behind it. “Besides,” the wall pushed back, “I doubt she’d go through the whole mess of charade and trouble for someone dead to her.”

Edie had to swallow the first two sharp answers and take a deep breath. Back in that central cluster of mines, again. Vi had made good points, convincing points, on why Riko hadn’t meant it the way Edie had heard it. All valid points, Vi needn’t even have stressed that didn’t make it alright. Just because Edie didn’t get it herself didn’t mean she didn’t know about Slytherin, and incidentally Hufflepuff, and their weird house solidarities and hang-ups. Fine, house Slytherin would not have a problem, certainly not one they needed help on, and most certainly no non-Slytherin helpers. Because they didn’t have problems, certainly none that were your business, or did you want into their business, did you, really? No. She got it.

And besides, it wasn’t about this, she didn’t want to go there again, to Vi telling her convincingly to stay away from it, to not dig until she found it all out. Never mind how close it was to the entire swamp of supposed gratefulness, even if Vi would deny that one to the end of the world.

“Not what I meant,” she said, calmly, she was calm, was not gritting it out or in any way distressed, she was calm.

“Everything alright here,” Lupin’s hoarse voice made her, and Vi, freeze, though in different ways.

Vi was leaning back now, arm on the backrest, wand out, calm still but fluid tense and ready to jump. Meanwhile Edie had to swallow her heart, which had again tried to escape through her throat, and let go of a calming breath before taking a fresh one, for a given value of fresh, with him right there. Her wand was on her bedside table. And her stupid right ellbow!

“Should I call an elf to get someone,” Vi said, not taking her eyes of the man but floating Edie’s wand over to her left hand.

Oh, of course, the pebble, though from Vi’s complete and total game face, she’d even sealed the air still and empty, she might not have cared either way. Wand in hand, even with the slight, unpleasant vibration it still caused, and Vi beside her, Edie took another breath, then shook her head.

“No, but thank you. If you could end the ward?”

Vi managed to convey, with a single breath, her opinion on this, but she did take her hand from where she could have flipped the chair and instead picked up the pebble. A slight chill prickled over them in a reversal of the usual unfurl and Edie knew they were again on air.

“We’re good here, was there anything you need? Madam Pomfrey should be back shortly,” she said, now insanely glad Vi had deadened the air.

Because yes, he looked washed out and ill, but he was up and about, from how he held himself unhurt or already healed up, even his voice was better than hers, and her resentment at this unfair fact was none of his business, nor the shock he had given her, nor absolutely _any_ thing else.

“I – was actually here for Miss Drake who I heard was yesterday hexxed so badly she had to stay the night,” he said, clearly already aware of the truth.

“And lo, here I am,” Vi said, flatly, all Drake-confrontation, expectant and level and ready, hand back on the pivotal corner of her chair.

“So I see,” he said coolly, taking such a studied breath Edie gripped her wand tighter and again praised that seal. “Proud of yourself, too, hm.”

“Hm,” Vi shrugged, fluid and ready, “I know my accomplishments. How you chose to colour them, or yours at that, doesn’t matter to me. Anything else?”

Lupin paled in a foreboding way, his displeasure obvious even in the still air, and Vi really knew how to wear that superiority, good grief! All put-upon impatience and dismissal, as if he were just a lowly petitioner or annoyance, not a teacher! She didn’t even treat Fina like that! But Lupin was clearly no stranger to such treatment and, worse, chose to turn to Edie with the air of dismissing Vi, placing Edie over her, dividing them.

“I’m terribly sorry, Miss Eohyrde, I didn’t mean to disturb your recovery,” he said, and Edie would have excused him just to have him out of the hospital wing, but then he added, in that mild tone, “I actually thought you safely ensconced in the library, you see, I hope..”

“That’s quite,” she interrupted, “enough.” She drew her shoulders back upon replacing the formerly planned _alright_ like that. But he was really just like Snape, casting her in a different light but imagining the same props and goings-on, and she wanted to set him on fire for it. “You’re an exception for having attended this school, and we have that in common. But it does not give you leave to paint your history on me, or my friends, who are my friends not despite or for but completely unrelated to their family names. Now, if you’d be so good to keep to your job and away from me, that would be appreciated. Professor Flitwick did ask me to involve him otherwise.”

Lupin gaped very unsatisfactorily, muted, resigned, and internal, but Edie consoled herself to have caught it at all, courtesy of knowing Vi. Better not tell her that, though, ever, from how flinty, or rather obsidian-edged, her friend was looking at the man. Who did deign to nod, at last.

“I hope I’ll be seeing you at the feast, then,” he said, sketching a bow, “Miss Eohyrde.”

She returned the nod, pointedly, annoyed at his persistent nosing-in. “Yes, I’ll be glad to see you – up at the high table, Professor,” she said, then turned to Vi, dismissing him right back. “I’m up for tea now, you?”

“I could drink,” Vi said, or rather drawled, radiating smugness, and _she_ still hadn’t taken her eyes off the man. Who was at long last actually leaving, looking all faded and brittle.

“Very well, then call up an elf and ask if they could do a purge here before they bring up the tea. Be stupid if he left a tunnel or somesuch,” Edie faux sighed at her friend, who was now looking at her as if she’d just descended from the heavens and had to be worshipped right away.

“Of course, my lady,” Vi intoned gamely, gravely, and set about calling up Denbigh, who did clear their area, though only of their own magic.

It made the tea taste all the better, once Vi had activated a second pebble and also put triggers by the door and the way to their screened-off area. Vi, who was still glowing with such vindicated glee that Edie couldn’t help but comment. Who was so gleeful she actually told Edie, a bit. Not everything, of course, but she admitted it right away, that she’d keep the details of offences and pranking to herself, and did provide a summary.

Then Amy showed up, at last, well after Madam Pomfrey had come back and tutted even as she checked the bandage. Now there was fresh ointment on Edie’s ellbow, and she was expected back to have it looked-at again tomorrow, and of course they had been talking about Amy and her odd use of the timeturner again, which Amy was not going to appreciate, and so Edie was only too glad to return to what had not been resolved earlier because of Lupin.

“Hello, Amy! Say, can you back me up here, on Riko acting like we’re not even, well, you know..”

Vi threw her a flat, reproachful look while Amy was taken aback and looking between them warily before carefully taking a seat.

“Really now,” Vi played along with weary patience, sitting back to let Amy reach the tea. “With all the mutual ignoring going on, how is..”

“Fine, you have a point,” Edie said, gratefully, “But I am telling you it’s different. At first she was avoiding us, always looking just a bit to the side, you know, but now it’s like we aren’t even there, she’s been looking through me as if I don’t exist, don’t tell me there’s no difference there!”

Vi hmm-ed and Edie realized she would have much rather Vi fib on, shrug it off, than consider it so seriously, like it was a valid, and thus worrying, point. But it was too late for that now, and then, with increasing focus, more worrying even than the stress Edie had worried about initially, Vi started asking question of when and how and are you sure. It turned out Amy agreed on descriptions and even time-frames. And that had Vi stare at nothing and sigh and look like she wanted to close her eyes, or dig her finger into her skull, or possibly rip out her hair. She’d talk to her, she said, and then apologized, and that didn’t just give Edie a very bad feeling, it also had Amy up in arms right away. It was the whole not-telling all over again, because at the time Edie _had_ asked, and how could Vi still say it wasn’t relevant and, pressed, just plain no, she wasn’t going to tell them. Not even she couldn’t tell, although Edie wasn’t sure Amy even caught that difference, or cared for it.

“So you’re saying it’s still alright, or at least will be, because it was just a misunderstanding and Riko didn’t really spend the last few weeks snubbing us with her rotten, pea-brained company of poisonous snakes,” Amy challenged and Edie winced.

At her friends temper, which made the air bristle, and because her hearing had just spiked up, and also because Amy did not usually get into such tempers easily, nor easily leave them behind. Edie herself had mostly got cool, evaluating looks, when she’d tried to get a view on Riko and her goings-on. But Amy, well, they were Slytherins, and she was Amy, their brilliant, best-in-every-subject, muggleborn Gryffindor. And Potter’s Granger, too.

“Really now, Amy, poisonous is only if you, or Riko, were to eat them, and I know you don’t like being reduced to your mascot so let’s just be reasonable and let Vi get to the bottom of this,” Edie said, mostly because Vi looked torn between shutting down or cutting right back at Amy.

It got her stared at, incredulously, and helplessly, because of course they couldn’t properly explode at her yet, not that they ever did, heh, and wasn’t that the best part of always being the peaceful mediator, not that she disliked it, but, well, nothing against having fun with it, too.

“Venom is defined as a toxin injected by a bite or sting, as opposed to poison which is defined as substances to be absorbed through epithelial linings. So unless there’s extended touching or licking, you know, like frog-licking, or eating, which I think we can discount, we can safely move past this and you can help spring me out of here, please, now,” Edie said in her most textbook of voices, hoping to extract this to their room and set them to training there, to get it out of their system.

It had the effect of Vi apparently swallowing her tongue and hurriedly rising with a cough to attract Madam Pomfrey while Amy shot her a mutinous look, lips pressed in a grumpy line. The mediwitch was not pleased but relented under their combined pleas to let Edie go. Vi was definitely aware of being managed, and also in what way, but went along willingly. Amy took so well to Edie’s suggestion it couldn’t even be called being managed but rather appreciation for letting off some steam, and maybe for getting to train at all, first time in days, maybe even weeks. Amy was really far too stressed, and small wonder, but of course there was no point in hounding her about it as it only stressed her out more and made her no more likely to listen to reason. Afterwards, settled at their corner of the Hufflepuff table, Edie couldn’t help but notice that Riko was late in showing up. Not with how tensely Vi was keeping an eye out.

“You think there’s any – special entertainment coming up?” Edie tried lightening the mood.

But Vi sighed, tiredly and resigned, and that was how they learned Riko had gone on a lone, entirely unspecified field trip for whatever insane project she was currently occupied with. Edie couldn’t fault Amy for leaving for the Gryffindor table then, she was half of a mind to do the same. But that was when Lupin trailed in, and after the look he shot their way – some sort of cheesy, tragic resignation stew – she would have rather dropped a dead cow on him. Fire might harm the charmed bats or the streamers floating through them lazily like watersnakes through algae.

Riko did appear, late-ish but before the official start. In company of Parkinson, damnit, if only Edie had a proper Tesla coil, right then and there, no matter which kind. Well, fine, Nicolle’s, obviously, considering their current location, but looking away had to do. It relaxed Vi though, and Sanson and Atuin made for good company over the course of the feast. They were cheerful and at ease, and happy to share fun ideas on the use of runes and variables in different constructs, a nice change to her own quietly paranoid housemates of late. It turned into a nice, warm evening, and after the full parade of the Headless Hunt and the artful formation gliding of the local ghosts Edie left settled and calm, ready for her own bed.

Which was of course when things got weird again. Edie had just used the opportunity of her housemates out to brush their teeth to change into her pyjama without worrying about her fresh scars and bandage when Beharry knocked and she could barely grab her robe before, without any further info, they were all, their entire house, herded back to the Great Hall. Where everyone else was already gathered, though no less confused. Only the Gryffindors, huddled in tight groups, looked to know anything, though from their faces it was nothing good. Well, it _was_ Hallowe’en.

“The teachers and I need to conduct a thorough search of the castle,” Professor Dumbledore announced, while Professors McGonagall and Flitwick closed all doors into the Hall.

“I’m afraid that, for your own safety, you will have to spend the night here. I want the Prefects to stand guard over the entrances to the Hall and I am leaving the Head Boy and Girl in charge. Any disturbance should be reported to me immediately,” he added to Headboy Weasley, who was already looking inflated on importance. “Send word with one of the ghosts.”

Professor Dumbledore paused, about to the leave the Hall, and said, “Oh, yes, you’ll be needing..”

One casual wave of his wand and the long tables flew to the edges of the Hall and stood themselves against the walls; another wave, and the floor was covered with hundreds of squashy purple sleeping bags.

“Sleep well,” Professor Dumbledore said, closing the door behind him.

Edie was still staring at the door when Vi appeared beside her, pushed a rolled-up sleeping bag at her, and dragged her to the side, towards what could charitably be called a niche. The same corner-by-way-of-column they had used as cover, first year, to evade Quirrel’s dramatic entrance. By now the hall was buzzing with excitement, stories being swapped every-which-way while Weasley called for everyone to settle down.

“That’s our corner, now,” Vi declared, easy to overhear, and threw her own roll of purple squish down. “Be right back, yeah,” and she was gone.

Edie settled, glad she still had her scarf on and her back to a wall. A corner even, though, really, Vi would probably want that. Then Amy almost stumbled by her, at which point Edie at last noticed Vi had left her obscured. The Gryffindor was alone, though, and had no sleeping bag along.

“Hey,” Edie said and scooted to give her space to sit comfortably, “so, you got any idea on this..?”

“Well,” Amy huffed, but sat down beside her, a strong, warm presence at her side. “Sirius Black tried to get into the tower, or d’you mean Vi?”

Edie stared, breathing suddenly just a little bit more effort than it was earlier. Amy fidgeted and took a deep breath, herself, leaning against her. “Sorry,” she said, “nothing really bad happened, comparatively, I mean. Clearly they think he might still be inside the castle but other’n that. He wanted into the tower but the Lady wouldn’t let him in, and now her portrait is slashed to pieces, but she’s still around and he didn’t get in.”

Edie sighed, exhausted beyond even thoughts, never mind words. All the whispering and buzzing and shuffling made her want to crawl under a stone and hide, the very air charged and prickly well past what was normal for this place and the Samhain time, but of course there was no getting away from here. She should have brought her hoodie, or the ear-plugs, or –

“As for Vi, she just _borrowed me kindly, try and keep an eye on her bag Weasley_ and after three steps sent me over here, well, _just over there near the door_ , but otherwise.. do you – would you like me to stay? I mean, sleeping here, like this..”

“No, thank you, but you better stay with Potter,” Edie said, burrowing her hands in her sleeves and trying to focus a point-me spell on Vi. “It’d be a shame if Black dropped from the ceiling sometime this night or something similarly insane.”

“Oh, no,” Amy said, and from her tone it wasn’t anything to with Edie’s words.

Then Edie saw it, too. Vi, towing Riko behind her. In their direction.

Not even obscured, but then, with how it was teeming with unsettled people it wouldn’t have been smart. Unless you wanted to sneak round the edges, which, judging from her pace and grim face, Vi was not in the mood for. Riko looked to be more puzzled than anything and only tugged lightly at Vi, stopping them, said something, a question probably, a measure of worry showing on her face. It took Vi gesturing towards them as she turned, answering, and Riko’s eyes growing wide, for Edie to realize the unseeing look at them hadn’t been intentional – this time. In the next moment Riko had grown still, her face blank, her entire body language muted.

It had Edie look away, watching their short conversation, if you wanted to call it that, only from the corner of her eyes. Vi grounded, grounding Riko, whose tension was still visible, until it vanished, as if evaporated. The collected way she ran her hand through her hair, the cool, creepily opaque way Riko looked at them as she put her shoulders back, handing Vi something, like an afterthought, already heading their direction again, was quite frankly disturbing. Edie wanted to melt back into the wall even more now, shifted against Amy, biting her lips to not ask her friend if she could, perhaps, fade them backwards, just away from all of this.

Then Riko was there, Vi not even half a step behind her, both moving in that brisk, impersonal way that had Edie’s fine hair prickle and stand up, always had, but even more so now, knowing about them and their literally bloody circumstances. Riko settled facing them, well, sat on her feet, kneeled so to speak, hands splayed on her tights. Vi sat down by Edie’s side, equally smoothly though more normal, sideways, as if guarding a middle lane between two sides.

“First things first,” she said levelly, placing an oddly reflective pebble down, tapped it active.

It was strangely sharper than usual, the current waking a spike of echo in her teeth and Edie shuddered before she could stop herself. She set her jaw and threw a look at Vi, but the Hufflepuff had put another pebble beside the first, no, a pendant, a striking blue one, on a dark string.

“What –” Edie started, as did Amy beside her.

“First things first,” Riko said, in the same unreal, level tone, shooting them a look of polite apology so dead and crafted Edie felt faintly ill. “This,” Riko gestured, “is a cueroscope. Much like a sneakoscope reacts to, hmm, sneakiness I suppose, it reacts to, simply put, lies. Unlike the sneakoscope it is not legal to own since, of course, such a precious good as the truth needs to be under the competent protection of the Ministry.”

She bit the last word out, and took a pointed breath through her nose, all the more eerie for how dead and still the air was around, how the least bit of temper was immediately tucked away again, hidden behind that creepy, blank mask. Edie opened her mouth to repeat her question.

“This one is mine,” Riko blocked her, rolling her shoulders but hands still flat on her tights and Edie had a very bad feeling that grew only worse because Riko didn’t stop there. (Of course not) “I had it active since the first day of lessons, first year,” she went on, “Vi only found out last month. I was to tell you this first thing, before anything else in the way of, ah, settling our, ah, differences. So, now you are – informed, and of course offered my sincerest, if utterly useless, apologies.”


	17. Improvements and Dementors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> handling this rather impromptu reconciliation is not an easy task, but Edie is an old hand at dealing with absurd developments, and she is not one to just give up, ever. This does not mean she needs more absurd, horrid things to happen, it really doesn’t!  
> (godsdamned dementors, they really are just the worst. yeah I repeat myself. they are, tho.)

To say Edie didn’t know what to say was an understatement. She could only stare, not even sure what to think, never mind feel, or even what to react to first. The words? All they dragged after them? The tone? The hollow delivery? Because instead of looking sorry, or even any kind of apologetic, Riko was looking utterly contained. With the dead air around her it was well beyond creepy, right into off-putting, made Edie want to be just about anywhere but here. Where she might be able to think it all through, first..

“Lie, then,” Amy said coldly to her left, breaking the stretching silence. “And then explain. Properly.”

Riko’s blink made Edie, despite the still-controlled, blank face, suspect this was not what she had expected, but she only nodded, looking again at neither of them, focusing instead on a spot of wall between and behind them. Took a short breath. Licked her lips.

“I – really hate the sun,” Riko said clearly, with conviction and authority, more convincing than her previous performance by far.

The cueroscope in Vi’s still hand twitched, very noticeably so, at the words.

Riko nodded, then continued, back to her business-like tone, “Conversely, I really am sorry. I didn’t mean to spy on you, or on keeping it secret, the cueroscope. But, well,” and she shrugged.

Just.. shrugged! It looked a bit odd, with her hands still flat on her lap, but that was not the part that had Edie suppress a growl. Amy didn’t suppress hers.

“What do you mean by spying on us. And why did you, then!” the Gryffindor demanded, arms crossed.

“I was getting private info without your knowledge or consent, that’s rather it, neh,” Riko said, flatly, “and I _meant_ to bring it up. But there was always other stuff going on and it just didn’t seem relevant, which I suppose says it all, so – So.” and then she just stopped.

As if any of that explained anything, in the least, never mind properly. Amy was clearly of the same mind, and ready to be vocal about it.

“So what now,” Edie said quickly, because grateful as she was for Amy’s fronting so far, she could do without watching it all explode. Beside her she felt Vi tense, but Edie was focussing on her, well, what, supposed friend? What sort of friend, of chosen family, acted like Riko had?

“Well,” Riko said, licked her lips again, looked at her, quick as lightning, and away again, over her shoulder. “I realize it’s an insolent request but..”

“Oh shut _up_ ,” Vi interrupted sharply, out of nowhere. “Will you get _over_ this martyr delusion already, Circe’s loom, are you _trying_ to fuck this up?”

A loaded, electric silence was jerked up by it’s hair, as if someone had just gripped the disc record while the player was already on, before pulling the needle up. Riko managed somehow to look stubbornly aggrieved at Vi without moving a single muscle in her face. “What.” she said, and maybe that had been it, that she hadn’t moved a single muscle in her face, just as her voice was still level and flat, no inflection for a question anywhere.

“Oh, excuse me, you mean you weren’t about to ask for the benefit of an ordered retreat. Again.” Vi scathed, the exact opposite of Riko.

Who just _looked_ , quietly, and after a half-assed attempt at staring back evenly, away to that spot on the wall again.

“Do you even realize how fucking insulting that is!” Vi went on and at last Riko looked up, almost resembling alive, opening her mouth.

“Were you really, though?” Amy cut in, “Slytherins probably call it something dignified and fancy, but I bet you know reverse psychology.”

Whatever Riko had been about to say disappeared behind a polite smile, like a flash of blade it cut off the small glimpse of actual Riko, which, _no_.

“What _did_ you expect, Riko,” Edie interrupted, because this was where they should be digging, not stomping about sidelines. “From this, and were you really going to ask for that, a getaway?”

“Well, I expected explosions, so to speak, and to end up as some variation of a dead smear on the floor,” Riko said casually, “which I wasn’t keen on, as it would rather necessitate a getaway; which is, especially right at the moment, a bit of a problem. What with everyone on the lookout for anything out of the ordinary, and the dementors out and about. So, yes. And we don’t actually have a fancy name for it, Amy, nor was it my intent. I just..” and then she fell quiet again, coolly shrugging off the aborted sentence that might have given them at least some insight, instead just letting the silence stretch.

Edie suppressed a sigh. “Riko, will you let go of your still air,” she said instead, only to get another of those completely flat, hooded looks.

“Apologies,” Riko replied after a moment, tonelessly, “Thought you could rather do without.”

The Slytherin sighed through her nose, almost imperceptible, and twitched the fore and middle finger of her left hand. The first twitch of her previously still hands, ever since the start of this supposed conversation. The realization hit Edie almost as hard as the mess that assaulted her nose.

“Sorry, I really am sorry, Edie, let me do a Clear, at least, yeah?” Riko said when Edie raised her hand to cover her nose.

Edie nodded, waved away Vi’s tense look and Amy’s worried “Edie?”, set her shoulders and did not pull up her scarf. Riko had done the clear as visibly as the release, but was, despite her almost normal words, still too calm-looking and -sounding by far.

“I could just redraw..” Riko started, blushing, looking somewhere between mildly ashamed and mildly worried, apparently not frantic at all. Ha.

“No, but maybe you could at least try to be a bit more honest,” Edie said, tone pointedly even and still wary. “Or were you counting on this? It doesn’t help Amy one bit.”

“I _was_ hoping to avoid this, actually, and also hoping to just keep this rational and civil, or as much as possible so,” Riko stated coolly.

“Right, just keep excluding me, it’s nothing new, after all,” Amy threw in, “you know what, I get it, you thought you were through anyway so why not let your housemates have some fun, who cares, right, certainly not you, how long did you think you could draw it out, huh!”

“What?” Riko looked at Amy in confusion. “ _No_ , I didn’t _let_ any one – what do you mean?”

“And of course I can only be civil and rational when I can’t smell you, is that what you’re saying,” Edie interjected, coldly angry now.

“I what! No, that’s not at all what I meant. I was just trying to not make it worse and I’m sorry, alright, I didn’t mean anything on your satellite state and I – I didn’t mean to say you couldn’t handle it, ever, I really didn’t. I know you’re handling it better’n any one ever could. I’m sorry, I know it doesn’t help, and it doesn’t change fuck-all, but I _am_ sorry! Amy, what’d they – I mean, only if you want to say.. sorry. Just. Sorry.”

And with another bracing breath Riko fell quiet again, sitting still, and like _that_ , falling back into that surface calm mask, hands tense but flat on her lap. And not once in all of this had the cueroscope so much as twitched. Vi was still holding onto the loose string, looking grimly blank now.

Edie sighed. “You were – are trying to not-Slytherin, aren’t you,” she was exhausted, just so, so tired.

Riko blushed even more and snapped her mouth closed on what might have been both a denial or agreement. She was trying valiantly to project indifference but even Amy huffed and stared, and Vi was sighing through her nose, looking into the middle distance rather than at their insane friend.

“Just out of curiosity, how well do you think you were doing? Sitting like that, and with the hands and, really, philosophical question, if you, a Slytherin, intentionally try to act like you aren’t, does that make it even more Slytherin? No, you needn’t answer that,” Edie couldn’t help the small smaile, exasperated, exhausted but still-real, that had crept up on her somehow.

“I just,” Riko said, stubbornly, “I don’t want you to think badly of me, not just, I mean, I didn’t want – you-to-think-I-was-trying-to-play-you..” She was looking down as she said it, blushing even more profusely now, and also moving to sit cross-legged, gripping her feet.

Edie couldn’t help but roll her eyes.

“They didn’t do much, as such,” Amy said abruptly, “your housemates, they were just always looking, all smug, like I was just, well, you know..”

“I’m sorry, Amy, really..”

“Oh, shut up, you’re not their keeper and they, well, anyway,” Amy waved it away, then huffed a fresh sigh, looking questioningly at Edie.

“You should try and have breakfast with us, tomorrow,” Edie decided, “We’re all pretty beat right now and it’s better to deal with anything when properly awake and err, functional. So. And I didn’t, ah, mean to insult your family, Riko. So, umm, good night?”

“Yeah,” Riko said, vaguely, “breakfast is good.”

Then Vi was holding out the cueroscope and Riko, after putting it under her clothes with practised ease, disappeared with a shy “Ta”. Shaking, if Edie wasn’t wrong, out her hands before putting them in her pockets, and looking utterly innocent and fine on her way back across the hall.

“It _is_ hers,” Vi said to their looks, then put her hat on her sleeping bag and with a sigh ran her hands through her hair.

“Probably a good thing she has it, where she’s going,” Amy said shortly and after, again, enquiring if she should stay or do anything, left too.

Before she was even half ready to sleep Edie asked a lot of question, which Vi, despite her obvious exhaustion, answered readily enough. Not personal ones, of course, and no, Edie wasn’t bitter about that, _really_ , but about cueroscopes and this version of privacy pebble, and why they had to change to a different one, and also a precious few on her opinion on this entire mess. Including the fact that apparently a crazed murderer had appeared here, _in_ this castle, never mind the chances of Amy getting involved in the mess on account of Potter and his infernal luck.

Edie slept surprisingly well, considering the surroundings: apparently the entire school would rather spin hare-brained theories about Sirius Black and how he’d got in than sleep. At last Edie agreed to let Vi lie her against the wall and play guard, just so she felt safe enough to do a Silencer. Upon waking, dawn was just creeping into the sky ceiling, Edie learned the castle had been declared safe again. Vi looked no less relieved to be able to head for her dorm than Edie felt, herself. Even with again a curfew declared for safety her mood lasted until Riko arrived, well ahead of breakfast but, and why, again, completely odourless. The Slytherin took one look at her displeased face and sighed, apparently contrite, but why do it then?

“Sorry, Edie,” she said, both hands already around an enormous mug of tea. She twitched a release, but remained practically curled up around her tea. Which, ugh, fine, that was a reasonable reason. At least mostly, there were ways to contain it better, she didn’t usually smell like that herself, did she?

“What are you even using? I mean, you didn’t actually disembowel anyone, did you?” Edie said from behind her raised hand.

“Common muggle cork,” Riko endeavoured to shrug, then, at Edie’s strangled sound, rolled her eyes. “Not literally, sheesh, perfectly sanitary cotton plug, alright, though I’m bound to learn some charms or such soon enough. There’s prolly better tampons too, just wasn’t on my list..”

“But muggle corks were?” Vi enquired dry _and_ curious, the corner of her mouth not so much twitching as stuck on a full rise.

“They’re right useful for lots of things, and it was bound to happen sooner or later so it wouldn’t hurt having them either way,” Riko said.

“What’s good to have either way?” Amy asked, sitting down.

“Muggle tampons,” Vi answered brightly, while Riko sighed another apology at Edie, blushing as she asked, “Should I redraw it then?”

“Oh, but you don’t have to be embarrassed about it, Riko,” Amy said while Edie nodded.

Riko tonked her head on the table and when Vi had finished her clear it was again all normal, except for Riko. Who sighed and settled her chin on the table to grumble at Amy. “I’m not, but thank you. It’s just miserable timing, is all, with Edie, and Parkinson just had to walk in on me and my common muggle plug, and I just bloody hope it’s not like this all the literally bloody time cause I could disembowel someone alright, just to get some peace for my guts..”

“You are whining,” Vi pointed out, deadpan but not unkindly so. “Think on the bright side and drink your tea, there’s a refill waiting.”

Edie found herself snickering along with Amy when Riko sighed again, deeply, dramatically, and with a groan complied, mumbling a “you’re having far too much fun with this,” into her tea. Vi grinned and in a sing-song voice replied “oh but there’s no such thing, mark my wo-ord,” and it was just.. nice, and left her in a good mood even through Defence and trailing Lupin.

Which really was Amy’s fault. He hadn’t been at breakfast and apparently she and her two Gryffs had overheard something about him last night, at least that was the gist of it from what Amy signed her during the lesson. So they obscured, followed him to McGonagall’s classroom, these days again on the first floor, and overheard nothing terribly interesting. Snape being off the rails was old news, and of course they’d known each other, yawn.

Of course as the day, the days, the week, progressed, not everything was as easy as having nostalgic fun over breakfast, but if Riko was stubborn, and yes, Edie could attest that she was, then Edie was no less so. And they all wanted to get on again, even if it wasn’t going to be overnight, and Amy stressed almost out of her head, not only from her insane workload but also because the entire school was again watching Potter. At least now it was morbid fascination regarding the target of the mad murderer, better than being taken for a murderer yourself, but tell that to Amy..

The house days were established again as Monday through Wednesday, and if Riko was near invisible outside lessons on them, and apologized in advance she might not always have the entire weekend at her disposal, might occasionally miss a bit of their days too, well, she did apologize, and was up-front about it, even about the not-telling. It was nice to have to clear up seating for Runes and Arithmancy, to have Riko follow her to a desk in Herbology again, even to have Riko fall just flat-out asleep during Binns’ Wednesday lesson. She’d been normal all day, had good-naturedly accepted their teasing about the very traditional earrings she had received during breakfast, courtesy of, in summary, her Slytherin circumstances, had been cheerily harebrained during Arithmancy, and it _was_ Binns.

Point was, she was there and herself. And if her smile towards Edie was a bit pensive and she noticeably careful of her words, sometimes, it was no different for Edie herself. Amy too, only Vi managing to be her usual self, if you could to call anything usual about this year. There was still the matter of the cueroscope, Edie’d worried on that all during the house days, but Riko was nicely proactive there, too, soon as they met in their room again.

“We can agree on a keeper, or I can put it in that pocket with my watch, see, string hanging out, not active, dementors are alright.”

Vi sent a cushion to whack her in the head for that, remaining on the couch to shoot an unimpressed look and a cool, “So not interested, ta.”

Amy, who was sitting beside Vi but almost hidden under her stack of books, waved distractedly. “I’m still curious. When I got time, alright.”

“I’ll want to properly test it some time, but we have enough going on already right now, I think,” Edie said, because it was the smart thing to do.

Riko’s look, warm and just a little guilty, confirmed she knew Edie was again doing her mediator duty. “Well, if I lend it to you for a day you can do a pretest, so to speak, if you like? Won’t steal any time, either, that way. Amy, you too?” she said, and just lobbed it at Edie’s head.

“Are you mad!” Edie said, aghast, catching it on reflex.

“What a question,” Riko shrugged casually, but her eyes were tense and then she pulled a stack of Japanese lingua loquendi from her bag. “There we go. Not instead of training, of course – and no more escape for you there, Amy – but don’t worry, no long lessons, and it’s good for you, makes your brain fitter, too. Both, I mean. And we can take it slow with those books, they’re for complete Europeans anyway, and I got lots to read, for exercise..”

And that was that. Edie didn’t regret having brought the MCs she’d made for her friend before all of this had become such a mess. Riko looked to be pleased on receiving her delayed birthday gifts and hushed any attempts of Edie to apologize, with a warm “Oh, ta, haha, Black Sheep!” and then had to be thumped for her wide grin with the next best cushion.

She wasn’t in first period next day, Binns, but she’d said she wouldn’t be, “cause there’s more comfortable places to catch shut-eye, even with you around,” so Edie knew to sit with Li. Who was for some reason very quiet, not interested in going on about her odd theories, of variable switches in warding, which had sounded especially interesting in the context of her using Asian characters, and what kinds, and how exactly, as the two schools of thought usually didn’t mix, never mind mix well. But no dice, Li was silent as the grave, almost creepy.

Edie was relieved when she could return the wriggly pendant after the last lesson of the day -and week- Defense with a Lupin that had Edie wish the world were not as it was and he could just stay teacher, because bloody Christian _hell_ had it wriggled! Not constantly, no, but often enough that it was well creepy. Just overhearing a passing group of students was at least one twitch-up, and it was eerie to think, not even on what had been said or what might be the actual truth but how a person could just shrug this off and act as if nothing was amiss, as Riko did! Amy was next to take it, even as Vi rolled her eyes, and the rest of the evening was fairly normal, pretty much like yesterday. Which, huh, was it creepy or depressing that the pendant had hardly twitched at all, then and earlier, despite Riko acting no different from usual?

Well, she was different in that she stubbornly elaborated where she’d previously changed the direction of the conversation or stuck to general statements, in a faintly teeth-gritting way, like she had to continuously remind herself to go against her instincts. Which, well, was not as alien a concept to Edie as others might think, volunteering info that might be considered private or secret, but commenting on this seemed a bad idea and she _was_ curious, and if Riko wanted to.. Edie put it from her mind, glad for the distraction of training and a new language. They made good inroads on their shared courses homework but even so tomorrow’s game, Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff as supposedly Malfoy hadn’t been able to train, held no appeal. Not in the persistently lousy weather.

Saturday morning the washing machine outside the castle walls was even more dreadful, and Riko was on board with holing up in the library, so they sent their friends off to their respective house stands. No, they couldn’t escort them outside, they were on the way to the library, terribly sorry. Amy rolled her eyes at that only for Riko to cheerfully call after her to come by after whatever was going to almost-kill Potter was done with.

“It’s not actually funny, though,” Edie said quietly as they stepped into Madam Pince’s domain.

“I know,” Riko shrugged, taking a sudden right for the card-registry room, “but that’s no reason to be serious about it, specially as it’s just, y’know, weather.”

Edie trailed after her with the unpleasant feeling of having missed something. Well, she hadn’t asked what Riko wanted to research, but still, and what was it about weather? It was embarrassingly likely that Amy or Vi might actually know, which rankled even more than not-getting it.

Inside, Riko headed straight for the solitary Slytherin firstyear who had preceded them and was now frowning into a drawer. “Alright, Cowley,” she said casually, as if continuing a conversation, and the kid looked, instead of confused, merely resigned.

“Yeah,” he said, “Sure. Got bogged down a bit here, but..” And as he shrugged his eyes were not on Riko but ran, coolly, politely, and no less wary for it, over Edie, which was just.. what?

“Eohyrde’s the exact opposite of trouble,” Riko was saying, clearly in answer to his look, “Keep it in mind and let it be known and all that, hm.”

Her tone was the kind of dry, warm teasing Edie knew usually only in the context of Kean and it didn’t fit with their officialese, polite interaction as Riko enquired if he’d got to taking a look at the ogham yet and then obligately invited him to follow them to their corner. Then Edie got to trail her to Madam Pince’s desk, where her friend enquired about books Edie hadn’t ever heard of, on circles, apparently, southerly circles? She didn’t get any more info, either, as Riko just put them carefully in her bag and after a short detour to the rune section, where they picked up a basic ogham lexicon and the kid, Cowley, a name that told her absolutely nothing, Riko headed to their hidden, privately discovered section of tables.

Which was thus not really hidden any more, even if Edie knew that some other students knew about it already, but it was just.. beyond odd. And Riko didn’t put up a privacy ward or anything, just signed a short apology and that he often had trouble and needed a properly quiet place to catch up. And apparently learn ogham, which was not in any first year classes. But with how tense Riko was already, apologetic but not in an I’ve-done-wrong way, it wouldn’t do to push, not with the hints given. Probably he was muggleborn, from the name, and getting a start to learning the signs, catching up to avoid trouble as signed by those of older families, and of course family matters were not a good subject to push any Slytherin about, ever.

Edie knew how Riko got about people who wanted privacy but couldn’t get it, so she put it out of her mind. It was clearly even less involved than the deal with Theo last year, and that’d had no bearing at all on their matters. And they did have a lot to do, with homework and the new language and Riko’s grim determination to learn everything ever about dementors. They currently had only Binns and Herbology between them, which made for a distracted and occasionally aggravated Riko when they partnered for their homework. Edie was about to suggest they start on one of the new subjects, or even just ask about Creature Care, to get Riko off her track to historical doom when Vi appeared. Looking under her usually darkly toned Berber colouring like a grim ghost, a drowned one.

Riko fell quiet at once, then greeted her with careful cheer. This, as much as Vi’s state, made Edie worry even as she tried to be equally unbothered. Vi didn’t grow less disturbingly ghost-like when she sat down but she did speak, quietly and contained.

“There was a dementor attack,” she said.

Edie gaped, she couldn’t help it with the cold chill of terror icing over her thoughts, stealing her words and all context. Then, after a long moment and in a faint shadow of her usual this-is-not-a-problem-because-of-reasons voice, Riko said “Kitchen.”

And now Edie had to gape at _her_. It helped, apparently, although her friend was, even with her calm Slytherin mask, starting to look as dead as Vi. But she rallied, flashing them a look of _well, let’s be reasonable here_ , as good as a throwaway shrug that, even without the usual amusement.

“Well,” Riko said, “We need to know what’s up and so we have to go to the kitchen because I want to have hot tea with enough honey to drown a hinkypunk for this story, even if it’s clearly not too bad, because otherwise Vi wouldn’t be sitting here like that, for one. I mean, nobody got..”

“Dumbledore chased them off, sort of, I think,” Vi said, shaking her head at the question even their Slytherin hadn’t wanted to ask outright.

And so they went down to the kitchen. Their entrance chased off Ginny Weasley, who looked even more like a drowned rat than Vi. It left them with an awkward start, Riko clearly putting away some frustration after the girl had refused to stay, despite their declaration they’d just take their things in a basket and be gone. It had Edie worried about the clearly traumatized Gryffindor girl, but she couldn’t fix it, and being here was still a good plan. For one, and Edie hadn’t even noticed at first, but Vi’s hands had been been shaking in fine, recurring tremors that had little to do with feeling cold, Edie knew that well enough. And also Vi was still radiating cold and damp so the stools by the fire were exactly the right thing, as was the warmed blanket Denbigh conjured up, and the heaped tea tray he appeared, clearly aware the situation called for them managing their own mugs.

As was typical, although it was too unkind a thing to say out loud, Potter had been in the middle of it all, and was now in the hospital wing, which was why Amy wasn’t with Vi. That worry belatedly removed, the story itself was, depending on how much you wanted to dwell on it, a relief or a bottomless abyss.

The dementors, which weren’t supposed to even enter the grounds, had attacked the quidditch game. This had, thanks to the abominable weather, only been noticed when they were already on, or rather above the pitch, and Potter had fallen off his broom on account of it. Oh, he was going to be fine, Dumbledore had slowed his fall, and the dementors were chased off by some impressive light show (that was the relief part), but the fact of the dementors, being there, doing _that_ , remained.

Edie couldn’t stop herself from starting to think of all the horrible things that could have happened, not even just done by the dementors directly but circumstantially, caused by them, people trampling each other in a panic, or falling from the stands, or the players crashing into..

“Well, at least you won, right? By a hundred points, that’s solid, yeah?” Riko interrupted with grim, determined cheer.

It had Vi huff and roll her eyes and, lacking any cushions, resort to using her blanket. It ended in a tangle of limbs and fabric, and almost tilting into the fireplace, but Edie felt leagues better for it. Then Vi had to bring up her theory about fae magic and dementors, and their, so-to-speak interaction as opposed spectrum-points, and Edie couldn’t refute it, had to agree in fact, and just like that everything was terrible again. Well, it had to be brought up and pointed out and discussed, and it was better than the alternatives as subjects went, but still.

“So, let me get this right, either I stop using Obscurantis and glamours, most wandless in general even, and go nuts on account of being permanently visible for all and sundry, or I go nuts on account of contracting more and more what, dementor radiation?” Riko’s incredulous tone had a note of abject terror that Edie thought uncalled for, even with her friend’s paranoia.

“It’s not that bad, really,” she tried, “there’s oodles of charms for not being noticed or blending into the background and what-not, and it’s not like you’re bad at it, improvising, you can just fiddle with one that suits, you looked into them already, didn’t you, last year? And surely there’s some shadow-based trick or somesuch, that isn’t straight up jumping out of this dimension?”

But it didn’t help, Riko moaned about wanting to hide in a hole in the ground, shadow-things being not intended for any kind of permanent-like use, having enough on her plate without experimenting on charms that at least half of Hogwarts would know already, and of course that’d be the half she could do well without, and was generally a sad bag of doom and gloom. It was so strange a behaviour for her that Edie checked with a look at Vi she wasn’t imagining it, wasn’t missing anything. But Vi only looked back equally worried as Edie felt, so at least she hadn’t been left out of relevant matters again. They let Riko mope about under the cover of the blanket, all but bury herself huddling into the two of them, too, and then, having dosed her heavily with tea and honey, chivvied her back to their table in the library. This time round Vi put her privacy pebble on the table first thing, then the council was in session.

There were protections of all sorts, of course, dementors being the blight that they were, but the problems started with proper sources and ended with feasibility, never mind all the in-between of how exactly and supplies and the like. Theoretically, given certain conditions, amulets could be used, Riko had heard a first-hand account, but of course it lacked the relevant details, which hadn’t been ha, relevant in the story. And of course, amulets being such a cornerstone of the local arts, it would be no problem to find anything on it, at all, anywhere, never mind the indexed part of this fine, ever-so-scholastically-active library. Ha.

Edie did sigh at the bitter summary but she could understand Riko’s despondent plonking of head against table. Especially because the solution, or a potential solution at least, was going to sting even more. This was clearly the field of defence, and Lupin was obviously competent with dementors, and he had spent a lot of time travelling. Amy showed up to three heads plonked on the table in despairing silence, broken only by the occasional re-plonk. Although this was perhaps a good thing as it had her snap into resolute managing mode, had them go over the accounts available again, including lightning and odd sounds, which implied at least some intervention by the guardians, and next look up spells that might fit.

They spent most of Sunday, at least the part not spent on the most necessary homework and some reluctant training, on poking at possible ways to keep dementor effects away from you. Because that was really the root of the problem, or at least most shades of it. The only sane reaction to dementors coming for you was of course to run like the Wild Hunt was on your trail, but that worked only if you were in any state to do so. And of course there was the subjective but still certified-in-lots-of-unsavory-books effects they had, just by existing in proximity to anything living, never mind in a region as magically charged as Hogwarts, with not just one but a whole knot of ley lines. Which were also kept active and harnessed, which made any influence of that sort all the worse. Which they of course could only take note of, as one more problem, not like they could fiddle with the school wards _or_ ley lines.

It wasn’t very fruitful but at least they were more or less on the same page now, and after a night of tossing and turning Edie could praise the fates that Lupin apparently hadn’t caught on to Amy’s supposedly bad company yet. They’d have to keep it that way. Bothersome, but taking their meals down in the kitchen wasn’t bad, specially for discussing the hints Amy got asking after class, his explanations during the lesson had left relevant gaps.

But even with those hints, most of the week resembled a return to 2nd year, just before Yule, sneaking about to circumvent suspicion and the damn Sirius-Black-caused curfew, every free minute dedicated to finding any sort of viable solution without any proper success or progress. Not that they had much in the way of experience or schooling to build on, not even Riko, who was with all her travelling and family their best bet.

Vi tried to help with what she knew of her father’s work and his family’s background, amulets being more common in their traditions, but she was not her father, nor her aunt or grandmother, so they had to contend with what she recalled of, at the time of hearing, details that hadn’t interested. In their listing and summary they ended up with a mixed stew of Darija, Classical Arabic, some old French Dialects, some Chinese elements that didn’t seem to fit or make sense, and shades of various Shilha dialects, all of it taken and used as fit any requirement, whatever works. It pained Edie on principle, with it’s lack of unified theory, about as much as it appealed to Riko of course, Vi and Amy falling somewhere in between, but mostly it left them all with headachy exasperation as, lacking a solid background or sources, they had to test every variant of every little thing.

Just like last year, collecting and collecting and collecting data, and sifting and sifting and sifting through it for what you weren’t even sure you’d recognize if you saw it. Unlike last year it was possible, but unfortunately also necessary, to go for outside sources, for the different languages alone. Riko insisted that they also not miss any tangents, to catch all possible analogous developments as well as homologous ones, and was promptly lost in a stack of specially-ordered dictionaries, lexicae, and grammaticae (including, for some reason, on yiddish traditions more commonly associated with golems), while they all dug through the mess of other interpretations-of and integrations-of to catch each other up in summaries.

Edie tried asking Li and Patil for some help on the respective systems of their family but was shut down completely. But then, all of her house were being silent and tight-lipped these days. Better than the anxious whispers or blown tempers often encountered in the rest of the school, true, but still unpleasant in and off itself, to know yourself excluded even on your own house table, in you own common room. Vi had made some vague comments on potions to help with what they’d dubbed dementor radiation and measured in subjective mili drs, mostly to make themselves feel better by drrrr-ing at each other in various situations, and as the next week wore on Edie kept thinking on it.

Not for herself, she was sleeping much better, maybe owing to the new wards her house had apparently worked on ever since the attack at the game, but the others were looking comparatively worse and worse, all but dead on their feet, Riko and Amy literally ready to fall asleep standing. But there was no point poking Vi about it, she was looking tense enough to jump out of her skin already, and surely she’d say if she’d made any progress. That, all of that, had to be the reason it took her so long to notice something was, hm, odd. No, not just odd, something was amiss, in a way that made it difficult to pin it down, exactly. And it was not everywhere, it was in the Eyry, where she slept, though hardly more than that lately, and maybe that was why it’d taken her so long. Or maybe because it didn’t feel wrong, exactly, to come back and just.. relax, yeah, that described it pretty well.

And it had, at first glance, not been so different: where her housemates were outside the Eyry eerily quiet, in a tight-lipped, narrowed-eye way, inside they were still eerily quiet, just less tense, mellow even, in an almost dozy way. With how little time she’d spent here, even on the house days, it was small wonder it hadn’t really pinged her radar. After Li and Patil had shut her down she’d asked Noda about the same exact points, and received much the same answer. In a friendlier manner, yes, but still, no actual, helpful answer, and the prefect was well known for being polite to absolutely any one, no matter what, even maned, spurned suitors who thought they could pester her or her amicably declared ex. So that explained it a bit. And she’d meant to look into it, it was clearly to do with the new wards they’d enacted at the new moon, she’d got _that_ much, but priorities.

Because her friends were already looking dead on their feet, and it had just been a bit odd, not a problem as such, and thus just slipped her mind when she was out and about in the school. And she couldn’t even sneak them in any more, to take a look, with said wards keyed to all known Ravenclaws and nobody else. A problem she’d meant to bring up, too, as regards their lunatic help, but again, priorities and simple forgetfulness had thwarted her. And now she was calling herself a fool and freaking out in a surreal way that seemed to drain out of her almost as fast as it grew, yet without letting her head clear in any way, which was just so completely wrong it started silent, panicked alarms all on it’s own.

Tomorrow was the game against Hufflepuff. Who had a pretty strong game and team this year. Which was really only tangential in the context that regardless of it, meaning Hufflepuff’s current rating, this evening would under all circumstances be spent with the Floor and the Bracelet switched as regards function, a massive group discussion, the sole reason she’d come here, playing back and forth on tomorrow’s strategies and players and the opposing team.

Instead the Floor was almost entirely empty, none of the Quidditch team anywhere. The Bracelet was completely quiet as well, only a few lone lost nappers strewn about the couches. Napping. In the Bracelet. On this evening. Clearly this called for serious measures, if she could just think!

Some frantic minutes later Edie was pressing her nose against the glass of the window, balancing on the narrow ledge they had down here on the Floor. Her head was not so much clearer as crowding with terrible worry, but that she could handle. As hoped the arches were outside the sphere of full effect, good guess. Now, this required help, obviously outside help, with the prefects clearly as affected as the rest of the house. Professor Flitwick then, although she really didn’t want to be an official bother, not after all the effort they’d clearly put into this, and maybe he knew all about it already, it would affect the whole of the tower, wouldn’t it, maybe she’d just missed it somehow, being away all the time, and the pre-game discussion had been moved? But regardless, this was just too creepy to ignore.

She’d ask.. Vi, best bet, really, these days. Edie nodded resolutely. She knew how to get into Hufflepuff, and without making a mess of it, and really the badgers were the sanest these days, and they could use Vi’s broom to get to Amy if need be, or contact Riko from there. Mind made up, Edie took a deep breath and vaulted off her perch, landed running, to get into the clear as fast as possible, mind bent clearly on her goal. She made it to the door in seconds, at most, skidding through, then slipped as the world whitened out.

Over the immense pain it took her a while to notice she was still gripping the door frame with her left, so strongly she felt wood under her fingernails. But the sane physical fact of her _where_ was dwarfed by the throbbing spikes of agony skittering through her head, disjoint copies of it pumping through her heart and solar plexus, leaving her limbs weak and shaking, hence the cowering, the other hand curled round her head, of no use at all.

An incoherent whine made her see double as the sound accosted her brain, which was in no state to deal with anything at all at the moment. Then she realized it was her own and, with inhuman effort, managed to start breathing and stop that damn sound. The relief was immense and her heart was starting to beat normally, or at least with fewer of those painful jumps, so she tried standing up.

Not the best plan, as it turned out. She lurched sideways and knocked her head on the stupid door frame. But she managed to grip it with her other hand too, and not fall over retching, and then she suddenly felt so much better, felt warm and safe, the muscles that had been cramping more than working settling right down, the air still and calm in and around her. Then she noticed she was inside again, not out on the stairs. At least her head didn’t fog over again, but she really wanted to curse herself to the ends of the earth. Only, and that was the problem, even inside, under whatever helpful influence the wards were working here, she was in no state to do even that, just barely managing to keep breathing.

Her vision was swimming into focus, but slowly. She’d have broken her neck out there. And on the plus side, beside not being dead, the shock of almost dying – and not just from the stairs, she felt well past wrecked as was – and the adrenaline that was making her shake properly now apparently staved off whatever pacifying effect the wards were having on her housemates. None of whom, three in view right there, had reacted at all to her weird display, if they’d even noticed, or noticed that they’d noticed, more like. Still, better safe than sorry. As soon as she could, Edie moved back to the ledge of the arched window. There she tried, first thing, to determine what the bloody Christian hell had just happened, by doing a proper diagnosis.

Just that, leaning against the glass to stay upright, had her head pound like it was going to rupture open, and when she concentrated inwards, still the only part of Riko’s explanations that made any sort of sense, she knew why. It very nearly had, ruptured that was, internally, and the good news that she had not missed her house being informed and smart about this was overshadowed by the complete catastrophe it revealed. Because there was no way she could do that again without ending up dead, as was she wasn’t sure she’d have survived it without her werewolf sturdiness. And now she was stuck here, with no way to call help that was clearly needed.

Because, speaking realistically, it was the height of unlikely that this problem would fix itself, nor that it was planned, no way it was. Which meant the ward was malfunctioning, to produce such a backlash, and small wonder, in hindsight, with all it was keeping out, or rather protecting from. Which was obviously more than planned, from how stoned, not to say vegetable-like, people were being. Shit. Shit-shit-shit.

Biting her lips, Edie drew herself up and first thing opened the window. The sky was for once relatively clear, neither rain nor sleet pelting the landscape, mostly on account of the sharp winds that hurried away the clouds before they could get any funny ideas. Fresh air, always good that. A few deep breaths, complete with distracted rambling to herself, helped settle her in a proper, problem-solving frame of mind. The wards were already unravelling, surely she’d find some way to manage it. It was what she did, after all, manage volatile outcomes. Unless she was one herself, but really, even then. She’d managed years and years before she’d met her friends, knew how to deal with her problems, including losing herself.

“Nice and tricky, no problem really, now let’s see, hm,” she mumbled to the whistling wind, rolling her shoulders experimentally.

The pain was mostly gone and she back in control of herself. Very good. Then she looked properly at the mess and then she did start cursing. So much for unravelling already, hah, the exact opposite, as should have been clear from the increase already, effect and backlash both, damnit!

The warding was, or had grown into, a live seal, standing on it’s own, had become it’s own _own_ somehow, more than just some cooperation product. Like a winding net, a right tangled web indeed, it layered over itself in flaps and folds on the Floor, snaked and wound where it’d been drawn up the stairs and supporting arches of the Bracelet, along the walls in vine-like tendrils of writing, thicker rivulets of potentials and conditionals hugging the arches of the windows; coalesced in thick, semi-liquid sheets up into the dome, with fine, crafted lines shimmering in the air, thickening, calling to mind an umbrella’s skeleton growing underneath.

And it wasn’t static, wasn’t finished becoming yet, was just starting to settle, pieces of it still sliding along their own gravitational pulls. It was, despite the dire circumstances, awe-inspiring to witness. Yes, clearly her house had put their work and no small amount of magic into it, but it’d surpassed that, on it’s own, had found a way to tap via, not into, the tower’s own fortifications and spellwork, into the school’s most basic, rockbound veins of power, and would, once settled, be as one with Hogwarts as the rock below the castle, as the ley lines below even that.

Only, and this was where it went back to dire and cursing, this would leave the tower’s current inhabitants permanently in their vegetative state. Not even just by being in here, the human psyche, resilient as it was, could recover from that, but the final settling into place would change the magical equivalent of pressure so thoroughly it’d be like muggle pilots and breaking their eardrums. Except in this case there’d be minds breaking.

Comparatively, some poor sod moving to leave would just die, done in by the backlash of the growing metaphysical weight this seal was keeping away from it’s charges. And good luck for anyone trying to get in. If they managed by being Ravenclaw, Professor Flitwick would certainly be on the list of allowed entrances, he’d been here last week or so, correcting essays as usual, then even her head-of-house wouldn’t get far without his brain all but leaking from his ears, and just like her stuck with no getting out. Out of depth didn’t even begin to describe it, and yet, here she was, stuck with this mess herself. The effect was less pronounced here under the arch but it was still there, only her already-opened eyes and possibly also the state of her, including her wolfy flip-side, keeping her wits in her head. And the cold air buffeting into her from behind certainly didn’t hurt in the endeavour to keep awake. Then a shiver stood all her fine hair on end.

Because suddenly it wasn’t just cold, fresh air that did the buffeting, a sharp tang of ozone coated her nose, a whisper of sizzling electricity sliding past her ears and over her raised heckles, making her tense in readiness. Which, oh, which _was_ more than she’d managed previously.

“Dance on the wind, little flame, and recall wence you came,” the whisper shivered around her, seemed to, hm, not settle, but wind about, not repeating it, audibly, but neither losing its message even as it wordlessly kept toying with her hair and the tassels of her scarf.

Her heart leapt, not trying to escape through her throat for once, no, this was her house guardian, hers, and as fit he didn’t just have her back, he was helping, being sharp and brilliant. Edie took another deep breath of the dancing, cold air around her, nodded reflexively, collected again.

“What a tune to gift, Rikash bright and swift,” she started, absurdly proud he was playing on her name, it meant he knew it, after all, and they hadn’t even gotten round to introducing themselves last year! But enough of that, priorities, and proper ones, this time. “But let’s get to this web if you please, for I fear that, brilliant as it is, we’d be less than, not more, once it settles it’s core.”

The gale pressing inside and swirling around her carried that odd strand of undefinable current, the one that had thrown her so last year, but Edie was nothing if not learning from mistakes and all but preened under what she now knew to be a sort of friendly teasing, appreciation in any case.

“Tragic as it is to do, this seal is disease, for you to fix, lotophagoi those who brought it to our house,” the air vibrated around her, and even unable as she was to sift through the new layers proper, Edie could take a good guess at the mixed tangle, had felt it herself just earlier, in a way.

Which didn’t change the cold dread sneaking back in. For her to fix? This pulsing, living mess of will-bending magic? Of which she couldn’t even see the completeness, could only just grasp the extent and scale? Only, and was that how.. anyway, only it was her, here, nobody else.

“Na gut, let’s get to it then,” she said absently, mostly to herself really, shaking out her hands, eyes flying over what she could glimpse, could decipher even in the widest sense of context, looking for patterns more than specifics. A labyrinth seemed to take shape, moving like seaweed in currents she’d have to get if not a grip then at least a clue on, before trying to navigate as a player on this field of shifting, morphing rules.

“Heed your eddies, little gale, I can favour them, can aid you there, but the echoes on my side are only that, the tunes to play must be your own.”

“Course.. clear then,” Edie sighed, because _of course_ , not _off_ course, and he _was_ being more helpful than his words suggested and thus the courtesy was deserved, even with the tacked-on quality, which wasn’t meant straight-on after all, more like a friendly, teasing acknowledgement.

And so, looking over the spread-out maze, it’s lines rising and swaying like algae under water, she started plotting, and _writing out_ her own, heh, course. The cold air and steady, dancing wind of Rikash, both from the window and the currents curling around her, played into the movement too, and gave her a decent chance to follow, or rather make her own tune indeed. And that gave her an idea, and why not, really, so she started whistling, utilising her favourite tunes as fit, context or purpose, and in any case an added movement, meaning vectors of her own.

It was a right winding path and work, but Edie barely noticed, absorbed by the fascination of not just, eh, winding along but actually bending the lines, the angles, almost a game in itself. She felt a glowing kinship to Riko’s glee at tempering with wards and locks as she sheared a condition just so, only the slightest adjustments needed to satisfy the ifs, just a few facettes added or switched, hardly any need to mess with the set-down runes. And of course they had, textbook style, started not entirely but very-nearly central, and on the base, down here, and it helped immensely in finding the root sigil. Which, _oh_ , she almost laughed as the image of the bleed-over assembled in front of her. The Ashtamangala Lotus as a central component, and then not separating it quite enough from the greek, oh dear, Rikash had really been very on point with the lotophagoi dig..

Of course that wasn’t it, just one loophole of a fair number, but that always was the problem, wasn’t it, in group-projects, where everyone thought they were the smartest, and meant well of course, but the others wouldn’t quite get it so it was best to just handle it yourself, faster, too. Wasn’t it for the seal either, not based on just one, after all, though they’d luckily gone with three as base, no wonder with the mixed bag used here. _Oh_ , and they’d made use of different numerologies too, for the different sequences as well as the rest of the mixed bag of different traditions they’d used, oh, this was going to be _so_ much fun, Professor Babbling would cry if she saw this. The parasol had of course made for the stars, not satisfied playing in their painted bowl of a dome, and small wonder that it was only echoed here, the dormitories were further up after all, and.. what creative specialist had the idea to use the urn, treasure vase, water pot, here, with it’s messy tangle of meanings, even without the symbolism of Sunyata it dragged in?

Edie sighed, let herself, used it, as she was leaning into the pressure the ball of her left foot was applying to the Padma-sigil, creating a natural excess of focus backed by her flesh and blood, to smother it, collapse it like a vein, and imprint this meaning in the holy flower’s stead so well that as it went about fixing itself it would go that way, a way she could use to flush this mess out without anyone ending in St Mungo’s. And the sigh did it, broke the camel’s back so to say, and she had to bite her lips to not send a laugh after it without proper frames. But as the crack of the focal element spread, raced outwards, splintering it, spreading with it the changed pattern, she let it settle with a heartfelt “Hah!”

One down, and – best of all, and yes, she was a bit proud of that – with the astrological sign for the sun that she’d fit in and anchored, base for the imagery of the vein, it was, even with the cracks, able to leak, was the tip of the arrow, going by technical imagery, hah! A flow could start already that way and she’d added the angles to just throw it to the winds, away from anything castle, and with Rikash’s storm it’d be gone right proper. Of course it also meant she was on a countdown, lest the seal managed to mess with her changes, and she had to get the people out of the common room. Even with the leak it was going to fill up with a mental, all meanings, dose of effect and, possibly, after the cracks, also, hm, sewage? The unpleasantness it was supposed to protect from, simply put, aka nothing she’d expose anyone to, much less her already-stoned housemates.

Taking a deep breath Edie turned away from her brilliant handling of this mess of a ward and towards the far more daunting task of herding her housemates. She was well-liked, mostly, she wasn’t kidding when she remarked on her house requiring less maintenance, and they did get along quietly and easily, mostly, minding their own business unless competing or arguing points. Which was not her, hence the being well-liked. Didn’t mean they were actively friendly though, and as much as Edie was a well-known quantity and accepted as easy to get along with, being actively friendly was a whole, different thing. One that was not hers, not like Lea. First on her way were Thorverton and Tripathy, both a year above her and slumped on the same table, over open books. No scattered parchment or notebooks though, and they were stirring. The directness of the situation seemed to flare up in her mind, almost freezing her. But only almost.

“Hey, um, not to intrude, but I was just heading up and saw you nodding off here and, well, more comfortable elsewhere, isn’t it?” she said with an apologetic, embarrassed smile.

Their answers were groggy enough to reassure her as to the workability of this, until they started asking, confusedly, for the time and, without awaiting her answer, the date! Now, the two were not the most serious of people, no, but they weren’t joking right now and that made it scary. They believed her answer, too, when she told them it was yesterday and just before midnight, and thankfully without looking at the clock over the entrance. And of course, or maybe even off course, she only thought of _that_ while already trailing them up the stairs, both to make sure they went to their dorms proper and didn’t tumble down the stairs to their death. Shit, she’d have to keep that in mind for the rest of her charges!

But with how unstable the ward-seal was, spinning up a glamour might lead to even worse trouble, so now what? And what next, anyway, as regards to that mess? Sanity, logic, and what she’d seen of the seal’s structure suggested that the next, the middle part, that dratted, thoughtlessly put-in seal of far too many meaning beyond just space, would have it’s focus point somewhere round the centre of the axis, halfway up the tower then, or thereabouts, which would mean, what, somewhere between third and fourth-year levels?

The taste of oxidized metal spread in her mouth as she dropped into quicktime, sent a whispered flare of tangential ifs into the air, up the stairs. Rikash’s breeze turned into a drawn-out chittering, like spikes of a curve in Oma’s old scope. Then, with a careful letting go of breath, she let her hackles settle, took a fresh, calming breath. And set to made sure the two forth-years went straight to their room, not their bathroom first. Because of course that’s where it would settle. Of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case I failed to make this clear, I firstly apologize and also offer a summary of the goings-on.  
> The dementors attack the game.  
> A set of Ravenclaw students think this development through, deduce that this is absolutely horrid in all it implies, and decide to improve the security of their tower. They work together in the way very smart ppl often do, resulting in a brilliant and somewhat insane creation. Ooops.  
> ..  
> Yeah.. who would have thought that letting a horde of fricken psychophages, if that is even right, seeing that things that feed ought to count as alive, which dementors aren’t really, anyway, WHO would have thought that letting loose a horde of fucking dementors in a highly magically charged environment with loads of people in it could lead to any kind of problem, ever. Never mind the history of the school and all, I mean.. just.. what the fuck?? was anyone? thinking???


	18. Competence. And Quidditch. And Side Effects.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Competence and brilliance, because Edie has both these things, in abundance. Also, tempers are involved as this descends. Because, as I said, once or twice, everyone is very much at their best this year, yeah, and also dementors suck, in absolutely all ways, and, yeah..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> terribly sorry, I really do not like cliff hangers and I wouldn´t post them intentionally, promise! s´just, rl was kickin my ass and I wanted to keep up the monthly posting thing? so, in any case, Edie dealing with all this nonsense shall now get on with it!!

When Edie arrived back in the commons, out of breath from practically flying down the stairs, the first thing she saw was Luna Lovegood, coming down from the Bracelet. Looking no more or less stoned than usual, the girl nodded at her, much as if continuing a conversation.

“I’ll take mine along but getting them out is really more important than maybes, don’t you think?”

It left her stumped, watching, after looking at the clock the girl had waved to, which meant what, that she’d watched earlier? Even listened? Anyway, it made her keep half an eye as the second-year trailed over to Chambers, calm as you please, the still-visible, at least to Edie, warding parting in a strange little whirl around her that didn’t leave her untouched, exactly, but wasn’t normal, either, of that she was sure.

“Glawris, would you like to come up with me? We’d be better off in our beds by now.” the girl said, already helping up her previously dozing yearmate, if not friend, Edie was never sure with her.

At the confused questions about the pre-match talk the girl made very obviously, at least to Edie, sure she was obstructing the view to the clock before answering. “Oh don’t worry,” she said, “you haven’t missed anything, it’s still way off, I’ll make sure you don’t miss it. But you might take a nap before then, you seem to have collected a mess of heavlewatts..”

Definitely friendly, from the fond if calm tone, Edie thought, as Chambers let herself be hauled along, sleepily telling Luna she was really alright but also grumbling about the nonsense creatures, exasperated dismissal in her tone about how’d you expect to get taken serious, Lovegood, really, when you keep running that sort of tales at Eastchurch and Randle..

Edie hastily looked away then as Luna looked up at her with her classically wide-eyed, slightly off-centre look, made all the more eerie by her pale colouring, even the blue of her eyes, so strange in comparison with Chang, who was after all a cousin of hers. She had been staring and she understood perfectly, personally, that it was not a pleasant thing, especially because Edie knew how folks could get, and never made enough of an effort to meddle. No matter that it wasn’t her business, that she personally wouldn’t appreciate anything of the sort, the most she’d ever done was sit on the same table, had only offered the girl a seat at her table a few times. But, well, given everything, she never knew how to not make it worse, and they had prefects for that and she’d been rather distracted with the rather more relevant messes of her friends..

And then she was by the table where Cornhill, this year’s loudest firstie, was slumped over a thick book that Edie was pretty sure had nothing to do with general first-year lessons. Starting early on obscure over needed, well, if anyone would it’d be the impatient and loudly “superior” girl currently napping on.. hm, Prismatic Principles in Charms? Riko had made some notes from that, also first year, but only a few, it was just really dry basics..

After she’d got little Loretta up enough to move at all, and listened to her rambling on “but why’s it blue most of the time but then NOT” and “it just doesn’t FIT at ALL” and then recommended asking Hilliard about Raleigh Scattering sometime, after a good night’s sleep, or Turpin if she’d rather not go to a prefect with it, the girl was at last safely behind her dorm door. That taken care off Edie again all but flew down the stairs to the Floor and then up to the Bracelet, far too aware, thanks to Rikash’s whispers and the currents running over her raised heckles, of the decreasing time left. And then Lovegood’s words hit her like a ton of bricks.

Chang and Bradley of fourth year were sharing a table but nothing else between them and Codnor of fifth was hunched over a stack of parchments, almost hidden by his stack of books. None of them looked dopey, at most sleepy, barely wake yet still deeply engrossed in their respective matters, like maybe they’d got stuck like that, which was of exactly no help. Chang and Bradley had started out waiting for the pre-match talk, Edie would bet her wand on that, and not just because they were both on the team and had little else reason to sit together. Not that they seemed to dislike each other, but they were very different in almost every aspect.

Where Chang was a true enthusiast, as much in love with the playing as with the game, and so petite as so make it possible to mistake her for a third or even a tall second year, Bradley was pure calculation for the optimum play, the perfect strategy, and very fond of arguing or even making vectors of things one wouldn’t usually graph as such. Which _was_ a bit funny, considering it was usually the muggleborn students who got all caught up in the joy of the game, but it was the exact opposite here, with those two. And then visually they were back in their own boxes of typical: proper and nice manners and robes for Chang, and jeans and sweaters, with hardly ever a school robe over them unless necessary, for Beanpole Bradley. They made a right pair, not at odds personally, as far as Edie knew, but too different to appreciate each other beyond quidditch, even if they seemed fond of sitting together at times, each doing her thing.

As was the case right now, obviously, and so, cursing inwardly and whistling a silent plea for a miracle, she stopped by their table. Drew a breath, envisioned the clock showing a more helpful time, about two hours back. Then, with the proverbial very-bad-feeling spreading in her guts, she drew up the glamour, easier and more reliable than any wand-based illusion charms and easy enough to do, she’d seen it often enough and it was a truth, if a past one. Then she told them, less honestly and praying to any and all deities that it not impact her glamour in the current abnormal environment – it shouldn’t but then it shouldn’t be as it was either – how she’d overheard Edgecombe and Wang even from her landing and a good way down the stairs, something about improper arrays or the like? And then she had to actually _say_ the implied solution, or rather reason why she was telling them in the first place, namely that they avoid an escalation of tempers that would carry over in the supposedly less-than-two-hours-off house-wide palaver regarding the game.

At least her extreme unease fit in with what was known as usual behaviour for her, even if she felt all but ready to puke when they at least headed toward the Floor. Obscured, she trailed them, carefully watching their wobbly reactions to the messy and by now almost visible miasma down on the Floor, only casting her two Confundus when they were all past the second year’s floor. Then, Rikash’s whispers growing ever more agitated, much like the storm outside, she raced down again and headed for Codnor, who was by now grumbling to himself, eyeing his notes like they’d personally offended him. The glamoured clock seemed to burn a hole in the back of her head, or maybe between her shoulder, like a giant, glaring eye of fire.

Which was a ridiculous notion to have, this association was clearly Amy’s fault for making her read those books, and it was completely and utterly _misplaced_ and should thus stop, immediately! Of course it didn’t, which left her even more beside herself as she told Codnor that Davies had asked for him to go over something for later. Here, too, she had to all but spell out the implication of why and what, this time clad in “well, maybe he meant for the first pitch later”, worded like this intentionally because it doubled. The captain of the team did always pitch his current plans and strategy to the floor first thing, so that everyone knew was on the same page. But this was also Davies’ first year as captain, his first _game_ as captain, and no matter how oddly-thick her house-mates were acting, Edie wasn’t going to blurt that out about a fifth year, not with how silent she usually was, and not to a known friend of his.

He still grumbled but he did get up and headed down and across the floor, leaving his books and notes at the table. His movement showed a similar reaction as Chang and Bradley’s, and the continuing glare from the clock-eye left Edie doubting her Obscurantis was active at all as she trailed him, no matter how irrational the idea was. Then he was at last through the door to his stairs and Edie whirled round to the damn clock, glad to glare back and even happier, well, for a given value, to rip down that damn glamour, because that was all it was, a clock, not an eye, nor fiery at all!

And then there was a resistance that shouldn’t be there and she wasn’t having with that, not ever and certainly not now, so she gave it the equivalent of an impatient tug. At which it promptly came apart, only it wasn’t just her glamour, for a moment there it looked like the clock was coming apart!

Hah, if only. The clock stayed, but it wavered, like a badly tuned program or a fatamorgana in Oma’s stories, and then it was back, only much later than it could reasonably be! But worse, far worse, was that this wasn’t just a glitch with the clock face or such, no, the real problem was the ripple it sent out, like a loudspeaker but without proper sound, instead the ward flirred and wavered where it passed, distorting something that made her brain hurt just watching.

And just like that she was apparently left with about half an hour to dismantle two-thirds of a ward that wasn’t even a ward as such any more, instead well on it’s way to a living seal, already reaching and anchoring in powers she could barely grasp to understand. The only sane reaction, mostly on instinct, was to retreat from that mess, so she did, hurrying into the boys’ staircase and drawing it closed after her, hoping against all odds that would stop it. It did stop something, though Edie wasn’t sure what exactly. Just a few steps up she was hit from behind with a strange vertigo that had her cower against the wall to not topple backwards.

And when she rose and checked her own, personal, and as a Saturnia most certainly to be trusted even if it had come from Riko, watch, small sparks detaching from the edge of the lid like bubbles of air under water as it opened, it showed the same, cold-iron _wrong_ time as the thrice-damned clock down there. Shaking, Edie pushed it back in her pocket, making her way up the stairs as fast she could. Which was increasing, at least, and Codnor was confunded enough that she didn’t need to cast at him at all, could instead help him to his room with a minimum of fuss. She repeated the tangle of conditionals of earlier as soon as she’d closed his door, already heading down again, just making sure the second base was still where it was, well, not supposed to, but where it should be according to the last check, before that new mess she’d made.

It was. Well, small mercies..

If you’d to call it that, Edie thought, eyes hurting from the weird effects on the bathroom, bending space and sense so non-euclydically that even Amy or Riko might look crosswise. It was also, as far as rune-work and arrays went, the least coherent, the base clearly used mostly for linkage, for which in her personal opinion they should have gone with the knot, which would have tied in better anyway. But they’d wanted all of space and everything in it to play with, and so here she was with the damn mess of vase, urn, pot, why not add barrel into the mix too. That way she could dem Fass den Boden ausschlagen, she really was in the right mind for that, all out of proper handles to fiddle with in this awful, offensive mess.

It was, after opening the window to give Rikash better access, in the end, what she did. Mostly. Well, she was still working the tube angle, with the new sun downstairs as the drain, so it was really the best way, to set a proper circle, using the walls for that of course, and the cracks from downstairs were right useful, firstly for the pottery association of course, both urn and vase, and also in general, so long as she was careful to keep them from the hull, so to speak, just making proper use, directing and extending them. And hah, after last year it even helped that this was a bathroom, would have anyway, aspects and relations to water easy to get and maintain, and same with the plumbing, but now that latter allowed for more, more potential in the pipes, in their links, their power, allowed to use imagery of snakes and their repertoires, so that after some swerving and bending Edie felt confident enough to centre those cracks on the sigil of that holy pot and put in all of her weight and the weight of all that she’d come up with and prepared as well.

It left the sigil a ring around a messy star of fissure lines, the bigger shards holding each other up but with enough jagged, disjointed gaps that it could leak already, couldn’t close on its own, much like a sheet of glass pierced by a bolt, still caught in that moment before the shards would fall but that didn’t change how broken it was. You could, of course, try and fix it as-was, and possibly put the little splinters back in, or, if you couldn’t find them, mold it together and just have it thinner than before. Or you could try and mix in other bits of glass, which might or might not work with your spell, and that.. was an analogy that was getting away from her and she really had to keep her wits about her, by which she meant the mess all around her, nothing else, Murphy’s spotty log!

Checking it all with a last whistle and glance she was disturbed to notice the cracks were already thinning, the imagery working against her here, instead of with her as below. The next glance, at her clock, had her tsk, and turn it a parting crack aimed at the self-repairing sigil, because if she didn’t manage very quickly to solve this, aka collapse this mess from the top, aka the top of the tower, aka the _outside_ , then those cracks fixing themselves would be the least of her problems. The two looming, literally mind-bendingly bad, threats were balancing each other out as far as panicking went, at least for now, which Edie appreciated greatly. And she did have a sort-of-outside contact, and the tatters of a plan.

First she raced up the stairs as far as they went, checking with Rikash if she’d got it all wrong, again. She had not. Hah, light at the end of the tunnel, she had to swallow a slightly hysterical laugh as she opened the window, letting out only a huff of breath that came as much from racing up the stairs as her mental rollercoaster. The cold wind slapped her in the face and all but whipped her breath away, but Edie had expected that and braced for it. Opening a windows from the stairs was always a turn, linked as they were to the rooms. Taking a sharp breath of the dry but rain-scented air she glid out, standing on the ledge and reaching up, making sure her hands stayed in contact with the protruding stone arch.

If only she could use her broom! But even with the seal’s effect now stretched by the dominance of the parasol, locally more anchored as umbrella and for her purposes easily strengthened via the linguistic route of parapluie, that would be sheer madness, would even with Rikash’s help end with her smashed against the tower or blown just that little bit to far and right into a deadly aneurysm. An unbidden “Was that what Oma felt?” blindsided her, was like a boot to the skull, to the gut, and her balance failed, suddenly too much weight drawing her out, away from the window, too much to hold with just the friction of two hands on stone, legs turning to shaking jelly, the jitters spreading upward, the dark abyss behind her developing a horrible, tidal pull.

Then Rikash’s sharp tone pulled her back, the icy wind seeming to blow right through her. “Wrong direction to leap, little flame,” whistled through her, but without reproach and then “Hush” when she tried to get a whispered sorry out through her clenched jaw, her breath caught in a knot in her guts, clinging to the wall like a limpet until she could trust herself to not come apart in shivers. “Fires are ever subject to the ways of air around them, and you did just leave a circle, though not the ward proper.”

His patient tone and explanation helped immensely in finding back to the lands of rational thought. “Shite,” she breathed in, then focussed, forming the seal with her fingers, made it the central goal in her head, her direction only a peripheral hint. Then she started her climb of, what, twelve storeys? But she had no room to dwell, or worry, or question, or try and deduce just how far along was she, how long would it take, would she make it in time. There was no room for that because she had to stick to the wall, had to make sure of it, timing each moved limb with an internal rhythm, focussing on only letting go there, only drawing back the seal’s effect for that hand, that foot, the right one, keep it stable for the rest.

The howling and screaming of the storm had faded, be it thanks to Rikash or because she had no attention for it, she wasn’t sure, couldn’t bother to examine or ask, always keeping only that next change of grip in the forefront of her mind, discarding all distractions, including the increase in sensory discomfort and irritation the oncoming full moon was already drawing up. At least for those early symptoms exposure didn’t matter, not beyond narrowing her eyes and only looking at the shadow she was throwing, with no clouds muffling the clear, silver light, colder than it should be, but that, too, was a thought to be filtered out, was only distraction. Then there was no more wall to climb, and the same to her side when she looked, which, what? Ah.

Apparently, Rikash’s laugh winding around her in a snaking spiral of wind confirmed it, the winds, aka her house guardian, had guided her up at the side of one of the stepped gables, but not the one with Sinistra’s balcony. And right the middle, up to the top. She huffed out a laugh, too. Then she laboriously crawled over the parapet stones, careful to straddle the ridge of the roof. The shingles were even colder than the wall and it was incongruously harder to climb this slope than the flat, vertical wall, but the hurrying-along of the winds around here blew the thought right out of her head. She couldn’t very well dig her watch out, clearly no time for _that_ , and she had no clue at all how long she’d been crawling up the wall!

So she scrabbled along, breathing in hurried gasps, muscles starting to weaken in exertion, making it increasingly hard to properly focus. It had her simplify the process, hands, both, then legs-slash-feet, which was part of why it was so much harder now, but she had to get up there, damnit, and today, which, hah, not as long as the words implied, not at all!

The roof was slippery, slick with the fine moisture that hadn’t made it into proper rain, and the edges of the shingles more pronounced, and more numerous, than Edie had ever thought. And that was without the ephemeral flickers of runework trailing like tied-up nets of algae in invisible currents, only visible in the flirring way of fata morganas. She gasped out and traced out what she could, to further her angles, to get by the relevant conditionals, but it’d have never worked without Rikash’s help, even coming up the ridge like that, perfect for her purpose, and with the seal’s structure so muddled already.

Of course out here the Roc had a far easier time of, hm, boosting her eddies, wasn’t that what he’d said? Still, even with his help, it was taking longer and longer to advance in this absurd mess of tangled magic, the closer she got to the centre, because of course it was here, the centre proper, shite and iron!

Edie could feel a thrumming already, not just resembling a gong, nor that crazy Gloria, but more like a bass cranked up past the max, introducing strange tangles into the sound. Only it wasn’t sound, that was just one little symptom. By now it wasn’t just her fine hair standing up any more, more like her skin wanted to just up and leave, her bones agreeing but in another direction, her teeth hurt right down to their damn nerves in her vibrating jaw, and her eyes were watering already, even more when motes of light started to form. At first like residue of overly charged edges but then all around, glowing softly, waving up with a ponderous rhythm that shouldn’t have been a rhythm at all - but it _was_ , was becoming what it wanted, Mary and Merlin and Tesla’s bloody coil, right before her!

The shock plunged her into quicktime proper, past what she’d edged in already for each traced sigil or rune, and it was icy cold and cut through the fog of undirected adrenaline. Disruption, right proper and not just in one aspect, that’s what she needed!

With a snarl, a right-out, feral one, from her guts, making her throat vibrate in that other way, the one not to be messed with – not giving, not in, not up, not _any_ thing – Edie slashed out, in the wake of it, charged it, then signed in the proper, the not-changed-for-better-use way, what she needed in ogham, threw cutting futhark after it, and pure, edged magic after that. All driven by will, the root of all, a white-hot flame of NO, of refusal to accept this as any sort of reality.

It billowed out from her like a lance, spread like a cone, or maybe blood in water, sparks forming at the edge, driven forward by Rikash, and she scrambled forward again, after it, in it’s cover, quicktime narrowing her vision to a pinpoint, driven where needed by her wit and skill. Backed by her will, still burning white-hot defiance.

The imagery was simple enough, the parasol round already, cracks drawn up easily enough through the visual of spikes, from the roof with its ridges, and the final lode was remade, circle, yes sure, cross, earth in astronomy, and what an image, making it subject to the sun down on the floor, caught in it’s gravity and system. Also, yes, x marks the spot, is the endpoint in the technical imagery of the arrow, the fletching from the back as you let it go with all the power of your draw behind it, and she did. And she wasn’t the only one.

Obvious, yes, and necessary, as for all that she was on the topmost point of the roof, she was still under the shield, the roof of the parasol, of it’s firmament, couldn’t have changed that without exploding her head. But Rikash could, she’d marked the spot alright, had scratched that dome from the inside. And at that exact point, in time, in space, hah, in will and magic, Rikash, companion of Rovenna and the guardian of Ravensclaw and her allies, of her, Edie’s, house, struck, as only a Roc of such power could or would ever dare.

She’d thrown up her arm to cover her eyes but the after-image of the jagged bolt, no, pillar really, of lightning, and not just the electrical kind, burned in her vision, the ozone thick enough in the air to taste it, her skin prickling as her body wasn’t sure if it could settle, skin easing at least a little but fine hair still trying to suss out if more lightning, more danger, was about to come. Instead it started, slowly at first then increasing in strength, to rain.

Edie shuddered, hunching down, suddenly feeling overwhelmingly empty. Cold sweat had pooled in unpleasant places but did that mean the ice-cold rain now starting to pour like a chute had been opened was better? Was there a point to colouring it as benign, as an improvement, or as anything else, be it nuisance or problem or danger, the rain didn’t care either way, did it?

It took a while, the rain pattering down on her like a soothing, numbing blanket, drowning out the skittering fragmented thoughts she was too sluggish right now to even look at properly. It took a while, Edie wasn’t at all sure how long, when even under the sheltering breeze Rikash had left wrapped around her, she started to shiver with cold. Or started to notice she was shivering. And then until she decided to take a look at her watch, still feeling oddly dazed. The insanity of sitting up here, right beside the shattering point of that insane ward-seal, right beside where the massive bolt of power had done the shattering, was starting to eke into her mind. The shivers were already here, though they were from the cold, probably. Not that she felt overly cold, which, hm, wasn’t that bad? But that was when it was snow, right, did it also go for rain?

“Ah, the lovely flame rises again,” Rikash whispered around her then, more a murmur than the sharp sibilants of earlier.

It settled her further, but also drew her down to where her exhaustion was lurking, ready to pounce. He kept up a stream of charming kennings as she clambered down in a dreamlike lull that made everything seem underwater, as if she could just let go and keep on floating. She knew that wasn’t the case, knew it with a cool, stable certainty that had anchored in her exhaustion and was growing into something Edie wasn’t sure of, but she couldn’t direct the energy figuring it out. She fell asleep, properly, to the Roc’s continued murmuring, but when she thought about it later she hadn’t really been awake for much past climbing back inside the tower. She certainly had no proper recollection of taking a shower, only of warm water around her and then of letting go of her towel, stumbling towards her pyjamas. But thinking? No, thinking had not been involved.

Which rather called up the question of just how long had there been thinking involved, didn’t it, and how much, or little, and not just as regards her, but really about her housemates and the whole of last evening, or last fortnight really.

Was _she_ remembering correctly even, and, far more important, what would her housemates remember, or know, or be aware of?

That latter was the main question chewing her mental fingernails when she, well, the entirety of her room, were thrown out of bed at the crack of dawn by the entirety of their female prefects, in ascending order, separated by mere minutes, checking to make sure everyone was there, was alright.

It was still hounding her, even more so, when everyone had assembled downstairs on the Floor in whispering groups. The air was fresh and cool, so the window she’d left open yesterday had probably only been closed recently, which helped against the pounding of her head. Her hands felt raw but looked normal at least, but what had she done with her drenched clothes, why could she not remember that? What was going to happen now?

The mess of the ward-seal had clearly poured away, and the residue, where it was perceivable as easily disturbed, powdery markings, showed such marked differences to what the ward, or any ward really, would have been made up of, that there couldn’t be any doubt that it hadn’t been right and proper. But what did they recall, what would they be able to deduce?

Because the shape and tone of the whispers around her now was disturbingly familiar, from last year and from before the ward’s soothing effect, and if there was anything Edie could do absolutely _without_ it was paranoia in her housemates. Especially if it was aimed not outward but at any strangeness _in_ their, in _her_ house.

Shite, even Professor Flitwick wouldn’t be able to help if any of them got it in their head to fish out hidden secrets. Especially if it turned house sentiment, quest for truth and facts and such, shite! And no matter what they thought had happened exactly, there was no way a normal third-year could have done it, so if anything pointed at her, the hunt’d be on, bloody Christian hell!

But _did_ anything point at her? Don’t Panic, a thought reminded her, absurdly teasing and far too Riko to make it feel safe or sane. But also true and laced with enough safe and warm and happy to not be whisked away. Even if she had no towel on hand. Then Clearwater preceded Professor Flitwick into the room and Edie tensed up, barely avoided a proper flinch as her nerves overran any attempts of muting down the overwhelming input of whispers and smells and over-the-top visual flashes, damn moon..

“Good morning, everyone,” Flitwick smiled into the surprised silence. “First of all, let me ease your minds as regards tonight’s adjusting of wards. As you may note, hindsight being what it is, there were some side-effects that, once noted, had to be dealt with. No harm, no foul, I am in fact proud you took to such a challenging project, and as a group too. Still, there are for today more pressing matters to be discussed and I would urge that a repeat of the project be brought to me first, so I can check it for similar problems. Yes, we can also discuss some of the problems of that first attempt, later and as far as their root could be found after the shifts, but now, with an eye on the time, I think it best to yield the floor to our Quidditch captain..”

Even with Noda casting her a worried look later, Edie felt like she was walking on air, hah, no, on sunshine, all during the following discussion of tactics and all the different angles, broom specs, player characteristics, known strategies of the Hufflepuff team, and so on. So much that she participated more than usual, in fact, which apparently eased Noda’s mind too, which only increased the lightness Edie diagnosed in herself.

During breakfast she waved with reasonable caution and cheer at Vi, over the mostly-empty and Riko-less Slytherin table between them, and afterwards enjoyed the game, even knowing that Amy was still toiling over stack and stacks of books. But what a game it was! Edie didn’t like to brag, no really, she didn’t, being justifiedly smug was entirely different, but today, well, their team wasn’t on fire, they were the fire, were one with the wind, were the wind themselves, it was just that brilliant.

The Hufflepuff team really had no chance, although they gave it their best, tenacious and switching tactics and plays. But no matter what a mess last night had been, the Ravenclaws were better rested, had been for two weeks now, and so on top of their game and in sync with the winds that Edie almost suspected Rikash of granted them a boon of some sort. Or maybe that was a night of warped ward effects being blown right through them, clearing their heads and attuning them to the winds that carried the mess away – who knew, it certainly didn’t hurt as the game went on and on.

Of course Jordan favoured Ravenclaw in his commentary, after Gryffindor’s loss against Hufflepuff, but he was nowhere near as rabid as in any Gryffindor game and one could see why he had made commentator. In the end it came down to what they had thought it would: like Davies it was Diggory’s first year as captain, though not his first game, and Seeker was not the ideal position for a captain, at all. Even less so for a new captain. Chaser worked, though keeper was best, but really, Seeker and Beater were about equally bad, even if it didn’t look it on first glance. As it was, the current Hufflepuff team only one game under their belt, they did need some captaining and it cost Diggory the chance to once again block Chang away from the Snitch.

They had the same broom model but Chang was far better suited to her position in build and skills. Even Jordan only realized her intent and goal when she was already well under way, having used the players around her as cover. Twice as far away from the snitch but Diggory still raced after her like on fire. Jones and Stebbins veered off the chasers and headed straight for her, closer than Ravenclaw’s beaters and no less on fire than their captain, both punting a bludger after her at the same time, crosswise, even harder to evade. But Chang made it look easy, all but bending around them with a reckless abandon that had them all on the edge of their box, yelling.

And then Edie was jumping up and down, roaring with her entire house. They had cheered like mad all day, had screamed and yelled and made up chants as fit the play, but it didn’t get much better than _that_. Well twice the points difference Hufflepuff had won their last game by, hah!

They kept on yelling and hugging their neighbours until the teams had all landed. Back down on solid ground Edie still felt like walking on, well, air. Sunshine had left over an hour ago. She barely kept herself from skipping as they made for the castle in one big pulk of teachers and mixed studentry. The Hufflepuffs weren’t happy, of course, but it had been a brilliant game, nobody could say they hadn’t played well, and their captain had very earnestly congratulated Davies for his first game, and, well, even cagey and clannish as was current, they were Hufflepuffs, and respected fair play.

Case in point: Vi, who was tolerantly listening to Edie’s admittedly overenthusiastic retelling of what moves had been _just the best, Vi, did you see!_ Edie didn’t follow quidditch as such, didn’t have a team either, but she loved watching a good game. In fact she’d thought about trying-out, but with all the trouble last year and this year’s mess it just.. hadn’t worked out. Not like she’d be any good for regular training, as was. And although she did love the playing, it was too dependent on other factors, and going pro was right out anyway, it’d necessitate telling people about her satellite state, and besides, it was a very fickle sport, and very demanding for what you got out of it and she was better off doing something else.

“You know, I was at the same game,” Vi teased, had Edie blink her distraction away as her friend continued, “but your retelling does improve it, even after the fact. Ever thought of making commenter? You got a good eye and your retelling of our wasted efforts made my broken and defeated heart swell and all..”

“Oh, you,” Edie rolled her eyes, face heating as she grinned at her friend, who was already looking out for her again, and being fine, and adorable. And then Edie noticed a Riko where there had previously not been one. “Hey there,” she greeted, glad to see her, and before Monday, which had apparently been enough of a possibility to warn them about it. “Where you been, then?” she added, still giddy, even with Riko’s startled blink.

“Oh – about,” the Slytherin shot them a closed smile that was more of an edge than usual, her shrug a few shades too practiced-ease to be real. She looked tired and like buried frustration but continued with her mask of humour. Winking a glib “Had to make use of the clear sky, yeah.”

As if that made any sense. Edie didn’t roll her eye or sigh, still in too good a mood, just smiled back properly, yes, teeth showing but right and proper and happy, as a smile should be. “Yeah, so did today’s game.. which I take it you didn’t get to watch?”

She hadn’t winked, thought it might be taken as more mocking than teasing, in combination, but maybe she should have? As was, Riko stopped short, it had her friend blink, mien closed and flat, very nearly startled-looking. Which.. what exactly was here not to understand?

“Edie’s gonna tell you either way,” Vi threw in from the side, grounding, dry and safe as thick-packed, sun-warmed earth. “And you’ll be glad for it; she was just making me all proud of our heroic defeat as it were so she’s got full recommendations from me..”

It had Riko ease up, resettle her rucksack with a shrug that seemed closer to actually at-ease as she stepped up and again fell into step beside Edie. It also, beneficial as it was, rubbed Edie just a bit edge-wise, like she was being managed, left her between feeling silly and annoyed about feeling silly.

“Sound goods,” Riko mock-admitted, transferring her warmer, if still only surface-fine, smile to her, after that first burst in Vi’s direction, which Edie _was_ fine with, really. “F’yer not playing yerself it’s the quality of commentary that matters, ne, which is, well, I’ll be glad to listen to _you_..”

“Oh, I’ll tell you all about it,” Edie said, settling, accepting the being managed in the friendly spirit it appeared, if not entirely without a bit of pushing-back, adding yet a bit more light-and-bright mock-menace to her, “if you got the time to listen now, that is?”

“Yeah, sure, all ears me,” Riko said innocently, brightly, after yet another blink, one that showed definitive traces of wary again.

But she stayed in step and Edie now had both sides covered against any sort of chill or bustle, felt warmer and safer and just plain happier just from that, even if Riko smelled odd and looked just plain exhausted and on edge. More than Vi even, which said a lot, and Edie knew she’d probably soon look the same, the Ravenclaw tower back to it’s normal wards and protections now. Which, heh, would make a nice story, later, after.

“Oh, hey, that reminds me,” Edie settled her hands deeper in her pockets, aimed to be sure. “You’re gonna spend the hols at mine again, yeah?”

And that had _not_ been the exact way she’d wanted to word that, damn. Yes, she’d wanted to sound sure, but of the offer, not, that was, she knew they’d like it, but, and now, in the silence that was probably just one of surprise, she hadn’t meant to spring it on them either.. shite..

“Sure,” Vi said, slowly, carefully, not sounding sure at all, and then, even more quietly, “ta for the invite, yeah,” with a light bumping of shoulders.

“I’ll ask Amy too, but you know how she won’t want to leave her charges – or the library, this year, and I just thought.. it’d be nice?”

“Sure,” Vi repeated, quietly but sounding more like she really was. “Think there’ll be even fewer folks staying as potential trip-ups this year. Just.. what about..”

“Oh, I got it all planned out,” Edie grinned, even more at her friend’s huff and rolled eyes. “No, seriously. Alright, see, it’s just about an hour, tops, yeah, so it’ll be alright, I can be properly under the weather the day before and you can be all long-suffering about me next day, it’ll be fine, you’ll – they’ll put you up in Oma’s.. in the South End, so all you’ll have to do is stay there, really stay, they’ll have wards but it is just an hour, so.”

“Umm, ta, Edie, really, but I can’t,” Riko said quietly, evenly, in a way that was so carefully muted it was nigh on unreadable in itself.

Now, Edie had expected to have to argue, about them doing nothing, she’d expected some awkwardness in general, about the invitation, even about where they’d be staying, had expected her plan to be talked through and about and around every which way. This, she had not expected.

“I mean, I’d love to visit if I can, and I’ll be there for that hour, see, no need to worry about wards then, but I can’t accept your invitation,” Riko was saying, not even explaining. And of course, right, that was what was important about those two weeks, that one bloody _stupid_ hour of moon time. “Sorry,” she added, at last, apparently noticing at least some of Edie’s reaction.

Edie didn’t want to have a reaction, wanted desperately to have the space to have one but didn’t want any sort of reaction even then, and certainly not now, even less when all it did was make her feel icy cold, as if a dark, cold wind had just blown right through her.

“S’just, I already got a previous engagement, so I really can’t. I’ll still visit – if – that is..” Riko trailed off, apparently sheepish but it was so clearly surface Edie wanted to whack her just for that.

It wasn’t enough to throw her offer back in her face, especially when Edie _knew_ Riko didn’t have any way to have a decent previous engagement, she couldn’t even be honestly sorry?

“Previous engagement,” she said instead, levelly. “What previous engagement would that be, then?”

“Oh for..” Vi murmured beside her, but Edie kept her eyes on target, a target that had the gall to look taken aback. Before pulling up another half dozen masks, flat unreadable under warning under tolerant under mild hurt under understanding, right, _that_ one just took the bloody cake!

“Now, I know we tricked about to visit around and didn’t talk much on it, but Vi and I did enjoy Christmas here just fine before,” the incomprehensible construct known as Riko said, with a smile that was so shaded it didn’t even deserve the title of smile any more.

“What,” Edie said, then blinked when the angle became apparent, her face suddenly burning with embarrassed anger.

It kicked out any thought of progressing properly from there, had her turn sharply to her left, to face that bullshit head on. “I wouldn’t,” Edie meant to say but it’d became a snarl, had her clench her jaw, then shiver when Vi cast a small privacy charm with a grumbled “Could you two not..”

“I wouldn’t and I didn’t invite you for charity,” Edie repeated, frustration boiling up when the last word turned again into a snarl. “And I don’t appreciate the insinuation, and if you think it’ll stop me asking about your ominous previous engagement or where you’re from now then you better think again..”

Vi was sighing behind her but Edie would be damned before she let any of that fly. And Riko didn’t look like she got it, either.

“Oh, that’s nice,” she mocked sharply, “and after you started it, in a full crowd too, because never mind alluding to that hour at all, clearly it’s everyone’s business what you want to..”

“That is just ridiculous,” Edie snapped right back, “as if any one was listening around after that game, there is a point where paranoia is just that, you know! And if that were it you could just tell me now what you’re supposedly getting up to over the hols then, yeah, I’m waiting!”

“It’s actually for my project so you’ll just have to wait until I’m finished,” was the maddeningly cool, and completely unsatisfactory answer.

“Of course,” Edie shot back, rolling her eyes, “that conveniently-involving-other-parties, not-at-all-ominous project. And of course we get to wait, again, until you decide it’s alright for us to hear what you get up to. But of course it’s nothing bad, just a transaction, you just can’t tell yet, yeah, just _because_..”

And that empty ‘because’ certainly deserved her airy wriggling hands and sneer, no doubt about it, because Edie’s had it up to here with this completely unreasonable refusal to answer completely reasonable questions, that constant prevaricating and vague-ing off, she’d had it! It had Riko blink again, clearly taken aback, and rightly so!

Then the Slytherin looked off to the side, not at anything, just away, like she’d do when switching tracks. Often a defeat of sorts, that, or rather an admission. But then she looked back at Edie.

And Edie wanted to take a step back, several steps, immediately. It’d been creepy aimed at nothing, but that coldly courteous smile, with eyes all but iced-over and so heavy-lidded as if half asleep, until you really looked and then your fine hair would try to up and run away, that mirthless smile Edie hadn’t seen before, similar but never so closed, so sharp and dead. Or deadly, coiled-to-strike, but she refused to think that, even as she stopped breathing, the air all but punched out of her in shock as Riko suddenly stepped so close into her space they were all but touching noses. An absurd thing to notice, with that scary, unknown person in a friend’s skin so close, Edie realized, at about the same time she recognized the odd smell she’d noticed earlier. Blood or similar, faint but there, what the bloody Christian hell!

“You know,” the ice-Riko said, sounding warmly philosophical without becoming the least more human, “I really think you should let us take that oath. Oh, but it’s ok, you needn’t worry. It would be just for your peace of mind, and that is yours to handle. I get that, yeah.”

Edie couldn’t stop the sharp taking of breath, felt her face, her entire everything, grow cold in mere seconds.

“Riko,” Vi murmured behind her, but the ice-Riko just waved it off with an easy “S’aright,” still with that flashing knife of a smile on her face and nothing alright at all.

“See, it’d just.. be nice, I think, if it’d help you accept our.. intent, ’cause I don’t think you do, and it always pisses you off when I insist and do what I said I would. As if I want to make you owe me, when you really don’t owe me a single thing for it. No debt, not gratitude, not even graceful acceptance of it. You could, if you like, go and tell every person you know everything about me, and it wouldn’t change a thing about that.”

Edie swallowed, convulsively, in the face of the cold, broken-glass edges under those warm words, the tone and smile, her muscles locking up, tense and on alert, her breathing turned madly quick. This was Snape, was all of Slytherin ever, cold and wordy and still unstoppably fierce, starting from the very first thing ever and going on until you were less than dead and forgotten, stomped down in the dust.

“That’s not,” she started, lips dry, because even if there were a point to any of that it didn’t have anything to do with..

“What you meant, what you wanted, s’alright, you just wanted to _know_ , right,” Riko nodded agreeably, and if it weren’t for her continued channelling of a glacial Snape, then Edie maybe could have dealt with it instead of swallowing her tongue again.

“And, hey, I’m sure you’re so huh, fixated on that not because you want to have a feel of equal – _standing_ ,” Riko smirked at the word, twinkly and sharp and Edie shuddered, which the Slytherin casually brushed off, “You just think you really should get to know, all of it, everything, ever. But see, Edie, you don’t,” and her cool, dispassionate pronouncement had Edie freeze right up as the icy-eyed mannequin with the mask of warmth stepped in even closer, to tug her cloak around her where it’d fallen open. The same instinct that saved you when a winged scorpion decided to land on your hand and take a closer look at your fingers. “That’s just.. baseline, really, not even for friendly, for any sort of civilized company, that if one doesn’t own someone _– and you don_ _’_ _t own me, Edie –_ then one just has to, occasionally, take one’s entitled curiosity and _sit_ on it. Before someone teaches one, in _varying_ _ways_ , to _fuck_ _right_ _off_.”

Then Edie was left in the suddenly-increased cold, to stare after her insane Slytherin, well, not storm off so much as clearly, judging by her swift, precise movements, urgently heading somewhere she should have already been.

Also left in awe of the level of paranoia that spoke of, and also, uncomfortably so, of the freakish combination of tightly reined glacial snarl and very polite and proper manners. Which she could have done entirely without.

“And how on earth is she even more mad now, after saying.. that!” Edie said, hiding her shaking hands in her pockets as she turned to Vi.

At the same Vi said “Well, that could have gone worse,” which was just.. what? Another uncomfortable moment passed as they both stared.

Then Vi decreed resolutely, “Let’s get you inside and warmed up,” tugged up Edie’s hood properly and then added, slipping her arm around Edie, “We got a staring Lupin at your seven. Want to let me manage you or rather be saved by the knight errant? Only ye’re a bit pale, s’why I ask..”

“Oh, shut it, you,” Edie huffed, face heating as she huddled closer to her friend, shivering not just from cold, “and let’s get inside proper, yeah.”

“As you wish,” Vi teased back, after dispelling their privacy, tone dry but warm even with the buried worry of her managing mode noticeable.

Edie obliged her begging-to-be-poked tone and bumped her soundly in the side. They ended up, after Vi convinced her that, no, they’d certainly not meet their insane hack-saw in there, and without using any clear words, since Vi was clearly as paranoid about Lupin as Riko was currently about everything, anyway, they ended up taking a detour to the kitchen.

They headed up the stairs to have some cover from Lupin, who just kept on trailing them. Well, until they’d slipped into a shady alcove for a quick Obscurantis, but really. If she weren’t still so disturbed by Riko’s sudden descent into edged madness it’d be him to freak out over, the man was just impossible..

Only, as was, Edie was still busy freaking out over her crazy Slytherin. What was she _up_ to, or had been up to for that matter, to react like that, and that smell, and what..?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, it obviously doesn´t help that Riko is doing constant excursions, each time re-entering the dementor-radiation area again afresh. And who´d have thought the stuff she bought from the butchers for Seiya would further complicate everything, seriously, this is just... murphy is really having /way/ too much fun..


	19. So Very Ready For The Holidays

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> more stress and complications to handle, oh no..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Terribly sorry for the wait: I am now in the actual workings of writing my BA, quite beside a load of other RL stuff that complicates..everything >_< so, I dunno if I will manage the November chapter in November or December. but after December 20th something will be come up.

Riko was so angry she could barely see straight on her way to the castle, furious at Edie, yes, as much at herself for, well, not exploding, Edie could surely deal with that well enough. No, Riko just had to go and creep her out, _again_ , and probably set her on a course to righteous investigation, that was just _perfect_ , as was the entitlement, and reproach, complete with moral judging, of the most uninformed and thus unfair kind too!

She took a deep and proper breath before even checking if the kitchen was clear, then a few more, at no point punching any part of the castle. The elves were busy, of course, dinner still happening in the Great Hall above them, but Riko didn’t care. Was glad of it in fact, as it left her with less of their attention, and thus less minding and questions and generally meddlesome caring-for, no matter how well they meant. And it wasn’t like it was a lot of work, her request, she’d even given previous notice, yesterday before heading off, and even if she hadn’t, a day’s worth of cold stuffs was really not much of a chore.

The satchel fit easily into her backpack, right beside the stuff from the butcher’s, hah, no more logging about of unwieldy, straining baskets, not with the restrictions after that ridiculous Black incursion. It had to qualify as cosmic irony, didn’t it, that two months into her care for a convalescing external person what used to be a given and had become so helpful would just stop. Another lesson on what to rely on. Not that Riko wasn’t perfectly able to get food anyway, there were shops and a public floo, well, a pub with a floo, in the village, but the convenience had been nice. And she made sure to ask for as little as was sane, but she knew the elves still itched to give her more, if only they were allowed. Finny had been very stiff-upper-lip-while-talking-of-a-tragic-death about it, although Riko hadn’t said a word, nor given any other reaction at the suddenly-so-much-smaller amount of food.

But to the elves it remained wrong and it was just one more reason Riko hoped that moron Black would get his due sooner rather than later. He could have gone _any_ where after his escape, and she’d be the last to argue his right to that, and he chose to fixate on murdering Potter? Gah, _moron_ , and apparently guilty after all, and now the school was besieged by dementors and the elves driven to distraction, and who the fuck thought the dementors a good idea, who! Riko shook out her school robe and slipped it on. It pleased the elves, making her more of a warmly-dressed, properly-cared-for student, and it helped everyone else think everything was in order too. Might even imply a stay in the library if she was lucky and the observer distracted.

She also dug a piece of roll out before slipping her bag on and making her goodbyes, to distractedly chew on as she made her way through the Lair. Visibly, by necessity, even if it had her skin crawl and her shoulders trying to hitch up. Determinedly keeping them down and not letting them tense up too much was at least something to focus on, even if it distracted from getting a good cold read on the room climate. But she could go over the registered details in her dorm before heading out here again, and she only had to be a sane serpent for a few hours before she could retreat properly.

So she had her watch open by her left knee, on the covered side, it was only smart as it told her it wasn’t even five minutes when Tony followed her into the otherwise empty room. Yes, followed; Riko had by then gone over her corner-of-the-eye sweep of the common room, and the looks between Draco and the Parkinson heir holding court had been a clear "you" – "no, you" – "No. You." Or maybe "hn?" – "s´fine" – "You-know-you-want-to-so-go". Riko suppressed a sigh. She really had hoped to be out quick enough to just spend the evening being officially fine, with books and company for cover. Well, her own fault then, wasn’t it, so she gave an absent greeting, took another bite from her demonstrative roll and another book for her stack.

“Mhm,” Tony said, “Did you spirit that from the table like a proper house ghost or’d you depress the house elves again?”

In her official teasing tone, warm, tolerant, all of that, but it still had Riko, in that first split-second, want to lay back ears in warning. Not helpful, that, at all, so she sat back on her haunches, did not sigh, and made sure her shoulders were relaxed as she answered with a thin smile and shrug.

“You are free to guess,” she drawled and, when Tony didn’t let up with that _look_ of hers, raised a mild eyebrow and nodded at her roommate’s supposed purpose here, her card-deck, “and if you care so much about it we can play over it later.”

“Oh, no, that’s alright,” was the reply, still warm and somehow smug. “You made good use of the rare case of clear sky then?”

It had something stiffen in her, Riko wasn’t sure what exactly yet, it could still be a random quote of hers after all. Yeah right, with that innocent look Tony was sending her way. It had her eye twitch, which grated even more, and with a pointed sigh lean her forearms on the edge of her trunk.

“Yes, I did,” she said, level and calm, spreading unbothered surface over the boiling in her blood, “that one more to your liking for a game?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to bother you over daily details,” was the coy reply, Cera through and through. “I’d be more interested in your plans for the hols. I mean, surely you won’t be staying here. Mother and Aunt Cissa are planning a do, but I guess you got a previous engagement again?”

That wording, shite, and the _again_ , and the way she didn’t say _this year_ was even louder than her bringing the subject up at all..

Riko had not stayed here over the hols before, in her own implications, and this went far past comfort in Cera’s. What-all had been overheard back there?! But of course it was still all in plausible fields, even friendly ones, with the innocent worry in her tone, backed by the disturbingly good insights she had.

“Course not,” Riko smiled, all teeth and cool eyes, a warning even with her tone carefully easy, resolutely ignoring the iron bands that were trying to keep her from breathing properly. “I’ll be visiting some relations way south, be nice to get out of the cold and gloom for a bit.”

Being friendly was a relation too, after all, and it certainly was a good way to London from here. And any Slytherin knew Riko wouldn’t, _ever_ , tell anyone where or with whom she was staying at any time she wasn’t at school or officially invited by her fine, spellfatherly relations. Which made this line of enquiry even more suspicious; it’d be a cover of some sort, had to be, but for what, except setting her on edge even more?

“Well, you can certainly do with that,” Cera agreed, her warm manners screaming trap. “You’ve rather been running yourself into the ground. Although I’m of course glad you settled whatever was bothering you and your – mixed company. Good to see you relax a bit, and be less frowny.”

Riko swallowed a growl, looked at a point above and to the side of her opponent’s face, ran her hand through her hair and then gave up and frowned. Took a deep breath, coiled it all down, leaving only cold focus. Nobody, no matter what they overheard or saw or whatever, got to be interested in Edie, nor bothersome about her mixed company. Nobody; nor was it anyone’s business where she stayed, at any point in time, nor what she did there, nor her state or frowns or face, _nothing_.

“Sometimes,” Riko said, cool and level and sane, “even the smartest Ravenclaw need things explained to them. They have that tendency, you know, to just want to know, so sometimes they need to be reminded of the niceties, in a friendly manner.” She smiled a bright steady blade at her housemate, sharing the joke. “It’s not their fault they can get a bit bird-brained, unlike sane people who’d know to leave well alone, and not keep digging until they get told to _fuck off already_.”

Out in the corridors, Tony’s cool, indignant face still etched in her mind, Riko wanted nothing so much as smash her stupid head against the wall. Or at least punch it, right proper. Except of course it’d register with the bloody headmaster somehow, never mind the portraits gossiping, because rightly done such a punch would of course not go unnoticed, never mind that the elves would be the ones as had to fix it and why, why, _why_ was she such a thin-skinned idiot! Gripping tight the straps of her rucksack she forced herself to breath out before even trying to take in any kind of air.

It came out with a sound, not loud but it was just entirely unacceptable, as were the immaterial straps compressing her ribcage against her taking in air. Air that tasted like lead, clingy dust, and fresh, lightning-born ozone. Resolutely she ignored the way her guts twisted and drew the shadows up and around her, retreating into their cool not-safety.

The way there wasn’t that bad, manageable while having a goal in mind, but swirling up in her safe space left her shivering and drained. And then, leaning back against the packed earth, a sudden cacophony, like a drunk oni wrecking crew, thumping and roaring, pressed against her entire existence, only a thin membrane between her and whatever issue reality had with her, all of her, bone and marrow, nerves and senses. She breathed through that too, because she could, she could deal with some damn feedback distortion, had done so before, fuck that noise, literally. That tangent of _before_ she axed right there, and it _hurt_ and took it’s sweet time to pass, so maybe she’d been overdoing it a bit lately; but piece by piece the warped, hateful slivers, _tch_ , of her reality tinkled back into place, like broken glass settling into an ever-finer mosaic before melting into stained glass of increasing skill.

As should be, really, it just took proper focus and mastery of self, she had this, could and would fix this, and the mess with Tony, and Edie, she’d fix it, just had to rest up a bit. Heading straight for the castle was just a bad idea, no matter how efficient it seemed, better acclimatize next time..

At which point the relief of unclenching her jaw was countered by the strange, barely audible vibration of the air around her turning out to be actually real, though not easily explicable. The soft, continuous growl originated from Seiya. Who was staring at her with unprecedented focus, his eyes glowing a cold, fierce fire. As fit, definitely sky his weave, but still..

“Yamh-ri.” Riko said, in the same moment he snapped out what seemed to amount to _snake_.

Riko blinked. Fine, she hadn’t spoken English and he similarly hadn’t bothered to use words, could that be it? Because, again, and really..

“Nani?” she repeated, thrown into Japanese, not that he seemed aware of it, not bothering with words in his own repeat, an extended and clearly pre-fight snarl.

Which, firstly, didn’t make _sense_ , even understanding what he apparently meant, was simply _absurd_ , and also so far beyond any line and so out of nowhere it ripped through any last vestiges of alright or control she might’ve had left, drawing out a sharp “ _Fuck off_ ” on pure reflex.

His follow-up had her, in a seething-cold flash of shock, so aware of her entire tactical situation it tripped her right into quicktime, but also so burningly, viciously mad she wanted to spew lightning – and curse herself again for not realizing her vague plan to find a way for that – or at least fire, which she could, theoretically but not in the current tactical situation, far too close and all but cornered and all that. Which enraged her even more, the cold fact that her immediate plan had to be flight, and from _here_ , when she actually wanted to _strangle_ him. _And_ spew lightning.

“You can,” she hissed, cursing the visibility of her hands and strategizing around it, “take your demands, and presumption, and choke on them,” took another breath, bending it and weaving it in, “s’none of your business where I go, nor what I do, nor _any_ of my plans, and _so what if I am_ , _**ha**_!”

It had to be interruptive, after all, unexpected, and although she’d gladly pay blood and bone for giving him a proper piece of her mind alright, she did know better, cold survival-instinct and discipline winning out against temper, even a supposedly Black one. Air-based, woven from breath and that flex of ki she never got completely right, always had to bend and substitute, and she charged away and outward in a gust of wind. The primary goal was to take it outside, with a variable second focus on proper retreat. She wasn’t sure she could take him even in a fight outside, and it’d attract attention, too, including potentially worse-than-death attention in the form of dementors, and she just wanted curl up into a ball. But she also wanted to give him exactly what he had coming, wanted to slash and take revenge and pay him right _back._ So, variable focus.

But then, just before she was clear-and-out, a sharp pain flashed through her leg, ripping downwards. Dragging her, too. Not letting up, only mangling her leg further as she kicked out. Clear case. She gasped in air as she stopped resisting, instead flinging herself back, right where the burning jaws wanted her – literally his jaw, _curses_ – rolled with it, covering her head, and in the next moment bit out with her right fang.

Back down in the den: a pained snarl and her leg and the surrounding space and air only her own told her she’d hit, instincts still working, least for that. Her left was up, second fang in guard, her right down, needed to stay upright, and her senses caught him even before her eyes were up.

Almost entirely across the den. Her right leg all but worthless for now, she shifted, hissing in air to breath through it. Still worked to bend but the foot was another story, setting her mind in a whirl of strategic if-then’s: his tangled coat masked injuries far too well but..

A grisly, wet sound floundered between them, part lung failure part about to be sick, all desperate whine. Riko stared back, then realized he was staring at her right leg. He was stumbling backwards until backed in the furthest corner, continuing his mix of messed up breathing, whimpering and spitting, shaking badly, all the fight gone out of him. The realization left her shaking herself, icy-cold, struggling just to breathe.

Later, not long, probably, Riko blinked herself back to properly aware. The breathing-through was working fine, no shivers, good, but stars and shadows, Shizuka would roll her eyes. And probably have her leave as was until morning, to then educationally show what you rather want to avoid, complete with poking and lifting-up-pieces-to-look-in, to make her points. Just curling up and gripping it like that, what was she, five?

The atmosphere was still and dampened as she cleared out the tatters of shadow-coated flesh. Slick and messy but no reason to worry over-much about blood-loss: at least that part of her training hadn’t failed completely. The atmosphere remained still and dampened as she leaned back to focus inwards, efficiently fixing the mess of gashes. She came out of it whoozy but functional, to an atmosphere still unchanged. Riko dug out an energy potion on auto-pilot before drawing up a clean-up circle, then sparked up a little fire sprite from its result. Leaving blood out and about, even traces, was just _bad_ , so she told san to finish that, born perfect for it as they were, and where to go after: the copper bowl with it’s sleepy slow-flame, and what not to go for, least not now (not beyond what was on her blade).

San leapt to it, always eager and fierce those, and she leaned back, cold and exhausted. Like clunky, rusty machinery, and wasn’t that the truth, not that there was anything for it. Vi would, she knew pushing to get ahead, and Edie could, maybe, physically, but neither’d be able to fix themselves up, and it was a bad lie to pretend that was all she’d lost. The sucking hole in her chest was back and growing, crushing splintery things as she missed and yearned for those two, specially Cheshu, knowing it pointless but unable to stop it. The huff of warm breath on her knee and the, well, not words, but the intended question were a literal bolt going through the bucket of her brain. She hadn’t even thought to ask, she realized, and, jerking up, eyes opening with a jolt of terror, she still didn’t _know_ , he could be bleeding out and..

He.. didn’t look it, had retreated some, looking like a dog who expected to be kicked and deserve it. She took a deep breath, through her nose, focused, didn’t sense any bleeding-out. Snapped back to his not-words, noticed how ragged and laboured her breathing-through had become.

“ _Not t’worry_ ,” she croaked out, let herself slide into the comfort of talking Metarikan, “ _S’aright. Just.. thinking of dead people.._ ”

Because that’s all it was, now if she could just make it take hold, the right way, and get herself back together, she really should return his question and..

..and he just had to ask that, hit the nail’s head so neatly even without proper language. Not even snidely or accusatory, a truly stunning shade of bitter irony that, no, he clearly meant well.

Didn’t change how hard it was to breathe. Well, holding your breath would do that. Only, who’d want to breathe, knowing it won’t work as it should. Mouth in, nose out, worked for one breath, let her nod, because she couldn’t _not_ , with that hole still ripping itself into her.

She paused, holding it again, long as she could, then nose in, mouth out. And she knew _that_ was all but a defeat already but she’d never voluntarily let go, not of herself, not of that only thing that should _always_ be hers to control. By then he’d crept up again, careful and hesitant, ready to twitch back again at the least sign or, hah, breath of not-wanted. Another warm huff of wordless meaning, with a whine in it, and _understanding_ , and that was it, shattering the last bit of hold.

Riko didn’t recall much about the rest of that evening, and so what if, yes, it was for lack of trying. Absolutely no point in reviewing her distraught blubbering, mostly incoherent she hoped, and Seiya hadn’t exactly been on top of himself either. She had at some point noticed he was still, crudely put, leaking, and made him drink an energy potion and fix himself up under threat of doing it for him otherwise. They were both mostly incoherent and it was no wonder, they were past exhausted, right, so it wasn’t like it was unreasonable to just curl up.

*

Morning, well, waking-up was unpleasant enough to fit right in. It was raining so loudly she could hear it even down here, her nose was still clogged up and her throat raw. Tea was of course the answer, the thermos in her backpack kindly reminded her fuzzy brain, but Seiya was warm and breathing easy, sleeping well. Also not leaking, though not healed, and so out of it he didn’t wake from her checking, so collecting her bag it was. And her ripped shoe, sock, and trousers.

Tea and a concentrated effort at Sartor helped, although it also left her shaky and with unsteady hands. And she’d have to replace her shoe. It’d hold for now but trainers, specially their soles, were not made to be treated with Sartor, or chewed by komainu for that matter. The culprit woken by strategically aimed shoe and his teeth aimed at her purchases and the house elves’s satchel, was apparently a sign to be interrupted. By Korra, well, Vi, and rightfully so. It was Sunday! There was supposed to be an Edie around school and not stuck with Madam Pomfrey, stars and bloody shades!

And apparently Vi was already taking care of that, too, leaving Riko to groan into her hands and reread it, and then work on a note to Edie. A calm, calming one, that’d prevent the wolf from being overly agitated without agitating Edie by making her think it written for that very purpose. Considering that, and Riko being honestly sorry, yes, but also still honestly spitting mad, and Edie knowing her quite well usually.. it didn’t leave much to say.

 

_Edie,_

_apologies,_

_we should talk and clear this up,_

_if you agree please name a time and place of your convenience,_

_including the Great Hall during a meal (but with privacy then)._

_Please be as well as you can,_

_Riko_

As soon as she’d sent it off, about a dozen ways it could be misread dropped into her head and made her curl up. Well, that and her general, miserable state. Korra returned with a reply that was so Edie it had Riko groan again. The raven also let herself be introduced properly to Seiya and left with a far more easily-written note to Vi. After which Riko groaned again and then gave her current contact-feather to Seiya, which was absurdly hilarious in all ways.

There wasn’t much else to laugh about, not that day nor the rest of the week. She forced herself up to the castle round dinner to be a visibly-hexxed victim on her way to the hospital wing, then, inside, promptly panicked and fled before even talking to Madam P. She left the castle with a new satchel of food from the kitchen and, back in the den, recalled too late she’d asked Korra to find the location of Edie’s room. (Any monitoring would be done by Snape or Madam Pomfrey, after all, who already knew.) But Madam Pomfrey had to be informed who was staying with her, and Riko had to admit she wasn’t really up to anything except curl up again. And, well, as miserable as everything was right now, there was Seiya, right here. And, no matter what else, Riko was not going to repeat her not-telling mistake from the last years, and it was, well, restfull, to not be judged, to simply have it heard and that was it. So there was that, too, just being there, and _being_.

Then Monday morning explained why her guts had been so _bloody_ unruly, was also grossly annoying, and Vi wasn’t in Transfigs. If they knew particulars her friend’s housemates weren’t telling them to Edie. Amy was exhausted and wary in their free period of sitting visibly in the library, and lunch was gross in and of itself, made her almost wish she’d gone with Polyjuice; then at least she wouldn’t have to deal with the stupid shenanigans of her damn uterus, maybe. Their plates finished, if not empty, they headed for the hospital wing, but luckily they didn’t even need to step in. Vi was just leaving and was thus back for Runes. Apparently she’d run into a bad case of cousins, about which she of course Didn’t Want to Talk. Alright then. For now at least.

Then Amy almost nodded off during Charms, which was just wrong in every way, and kept at that during their blasted, rescheduled Defence-lesson with that bloody Lupin, who of course, unlike the real Edie, was already prancing about, looking martyred and heroic and hardly bothered by the literally bloody smell Riko knew was clogging the air around her because it was all _she_ could smell the entire bloody time! Then Edie’s Astronomy lesson that night left lots of time (read: _not at all_ ) for alibi appearances of a Riko in a the seen-but-not-interacted way so her own housemates wouldn’t get too interested, and Riko in the best possible shape and mind for that talk Edie – still looking ill and as if she should be dragged to Madam Pomfrey – had wanted. On Tuesday bloody morning, and still all too literal, that, too.

And what a great talk that was. Riko could almost hear the practical way of Vi’s reasoning in Edie’s accepting of her idea, one that Vi had probably pitched to their Ravenclaw already. Instead of relieved, as it should, it left her depressed and then immediately annoyed instead. Which was even more annoying, as it was thoroughly sane and probably the only way they wouldn’t end at each other’s throats again. It just stung. Spending less time, and then more goal-oriented, it was smart, alright. But she’d miss them, miss the just-hanging-out. Even knowing that yes, settling in a pile would be great but it would also result in some variation of the thousand-questions-of-various-repressedness game.

Oh, and then there was of course Tony to appease in various ways, and deal with, on top of her house in general. And her need for various potions with varyingly difficult-to-procure ingredients, and effort-to-brew, the most annoying by far the energy potions, on account of the sheer number required. And Lupin’s continued, insistent, and unfortunately impossible-to-grant wish to end as an ugly smear on the floor. And the persistently too-slow progress on her dementor protections. And her trips, and stalking, and then the mess with and following Vi’s lessening-the-dementor-effects potion, aka Knightley-Selvam, aka highly regulated and thus completely illegal in their context, and so on and so bloody forth.

Riko stopped thinking about it, or at least tried to pay no more attention than strictly necessary – past her usual, trustworthy paranoia – only focussing on the current handling and necessary planning of any to-be-done item at the current time. There were spots of rest, ocasionally, mostly in her den in the forest, but they were always over far too quickly, and she couldn’t just stay all the nights. Still, it wasn’t long til the winter holidays, now, til she could leave for London. She’d get there, she could handle this til then. Riko kept repeating this to herself, steadily, sanely, counting down.

*

Vi was no good at handling drama with benign social talk, she was aware of this. And social talk was maybe not the best.. no, it was. It involved social, as in person-to-person, matters and the context was meant to be, and _was_ , benign. Didn’t change the problem of Vi being definitely not the best-qualified to handle this; this being, yet again, Edie and Riko being equally charged magnetic poles or simply touch-starved hedgehogs, or both, crazy as they were.

Which, well, was not entirely their fault, was in fact also partly her fault for still finding no way to fix it or help, so she couldn’t even be properly huffy about it. Circe’s circle, she was just so tired. At least they were close enough to the full moon that Edie would know Vi was being serious and in no way overstating. Starting in the kitchen was not great, Vi knew well enough that house elves were the exact opposite of discreet unless, sometimes even when, you were their primary authority, but it was better than starting with company. At least there were no portraits, no paintings in general, down here.

“I’m not saying she wasn’t out of line there,” Vi started, “and off a few rockers too, but the point of not being owned.. I can see where it comes from. She’s never minded answering questions that don’t cut that way..”

Then she had to explain and reassure and soothe ruffled feathers and not-roll her eyes. Honestly, she wanted to quote Amy, it was just terrible and absurd how nobody was even _trying_ to be reasonable! And Vi included Riko there, beyond her blow-up, because it had been obvious in coming.

‘So how does a free traveller live without access to proper money?’ (Amy) was decidedly different from picking apart the answer (a smirk at proper money and a relaxed ‘Well, in my case mostly barter and petty theft, f’rexample that one time in Bangkok..’). The line between inquisitive and inquisition was wily and relative and hidden in rocky terrain, but Edie hadn’t even appeared aware of it’s existence most of the time. And when she did it had been with the air of being right, even owed, and it had left Vi, and also Amy, very uncomfortable. With Riko, who had answered most of it anyway with an air of guilt and apology, when they all knew she’d never accepted any sort of inquisition as justified, but even more with Edie.

Ravenclaws in general and Edie in particular were usually perfectly able to keep their noses out of other people’s tender privates. It was practically their trademark, that unlike Slytherins they kept their enquiring minds to their own matters. At least the impeding, implicated deduction that Edie had somehow got to viewing Riko as a project was as unpleasant to not-spell-out as to hear it and had Vi doubly glad Amy wasn’t around. For all parties, really, and it let her use some more of Amy’s questions as example and helped settle Edie enough to take her and the elves’ satchel of dinner up to Amy. Who had clearly completely forgot about food or drink, again. Of course they had to tell her at least the gist of this fresh mess regarding Riko, and then convince her that, no, it was a bad idea and completely unnecessary that she involve herself in tomorrow’s full moon cover story.

Great fun, that, all around. Still better than Sunday, though, with Riko nowhere to be seen. Vi at least managed to handle Edie and Amy without blow-ups, delivering and leaving them in the hospital wing and library respectively. Amy had told her to get her when “Edie was back to making her appearance” but that was good enough, as opposed to Edie.

The Ravenclaw was still appalled, at herself and Riko and who-knew what else, and it fuelled, again, her absurd mindset of disbelief and incomprehension at why anyone, why any of them, would do this for her. And Vi knew Edie didn’t mean it like that, but it was always an offence, that, because of course they did, Circe’s circle, the only thing that had been in any way right about Riko’s fallback into glacial mode and the spelling-out of the nonsense that was their little snake’s brain had been that, that part where of course and always they would do this for Edie _because she was Edie_. And now no Riko was to be seen. Lunch was looming as the next place an Edie-shaped person should be seen when Vi had enough.

She used the feather she had resolved to only ever use for emergencies, cautiously, and was despite herself surprised when it worked. She was also glad she’d been so courteous in her summoning of the bird who was, after all, not a pet. Then, upon Korra’s cagey answer to her asking after Riko, specifically if she was alright, Vi decided that enough was enough and took the matter in her own hands. Someone had to manage this mess!

Riko’s answer, when it arrived, was only reassuring in the way it showed her friend was still alive and around, and Vi did not look forward at all to her own housemates’ resurgence of insistent care. But being known as a patient of Madam Pomfrey after another scuffle was what she had. At least Riko had already written to Edie, so Vi could show up in the hospital wing without worrying about worrying her pale and miserably ill looking friend further, could tell her honestly everything was under control and handled and she’d planned it through with their crazy Slytherin, who had, I told you so (though she didn’t say that out loud) of course not decided to take any such insane steps as cutting them off or stopping. Sheesh.

Or rather _honestly_ , to go with Amy, who was clearly relieved to be dragged to an official, visible library table by Edie, even if it was only Vi. Maybe even because it was Vi. They hadn’t gone into detail but their Gryffindor was no idiot and more aware than most people assumed, when she wasn’t distracted. Which, well, that was just great, as Vi already knew it’d be left to her to smooth that one over, never mind how not-hers that job was. But then, it fit right in. Not just the school year, the entire year had been one chain of trouble thrown their way, no matter what they were already dealing with or could hope to handle. Leaving _her_ of all people to act as anchor for her weather-brained lot.

Amy tried to be nice, calling her the atomic core and going into great, interesting, and temporarily diverting detail, painting her picture with words and flattering comparisons, but it remained all wrong. Never mind that Vi couldn’t hope to match the energy or pull of even one of them, to cast them as negatively charged satellites was just not on: no matter how irritating they were, she was no abraxan nor they any kind of scorvid. At least her stay as Edie in the tower and feathery company went well, was restful in fact, beyond the problem with the sleeping. At last some people who thought it was alright to give you your space, Nimue’s kirtle!

Edie had to be back in her skin, her hopefully far less injured skin, with this stupid potion of Snape’s, for at least one or two hours before breakfast, but instead Madam Pomfrey’s mouth was tight as she denied her visit, barely let her in the door in fact. That was worrying alright, and distracting, but it was still her own fault for running into Fina et al, and the main reason that kept her from slipping in the cover of her usual bleak humour. Her bloody fault, that she was being a bother in the hospital wing while Madam Pomfrey was clearly working on Edie, who was equally clearly not well at all, never mind better than usual. It let thick, cloudy frustration sneak into and through her guts, no matter how absurd and viciously hilarious it was. Didn’t matter if she kept away from it or worked with it, there was no escaping her family’s business, no getting away from her various family member’s reactions to either.

And so damn typical of Uncle Giles, he just had to keep on having his every corner not just covered but also busy and _entertaining_. Asshole, and not a subject she wanted to ever even start on, not a single thread of it, in all ways just no, be it with Amy or Riko, _or_ Edie, once she got back.

As was, Vi’s sorry state on Monday had at least the advantage of nudging Amy and Riko back towards their usual abilities in handling themselves. Riko being a functional Edie miraculously helped, so Runes and their lurking afterwards was actually pleasant. Then of course Defence, because unlike Edie Lupin was well enough already even if he looked pale and ill, and after that Flying with no Riko. And, as if Lupin as a staring menace wasn’t bad enough, Parkinson had apparently joined the trend. The risk of those two joining forces was about nil, but Flying showed that Parkinson wasn’t the only Slytherin watching her. At least they were all quiet with it.

Dinner at her house table was only the start of ever-so-helpful, well-meant enquiries. As if she hadn’t made perfectly clear, back in _first_ year, what was their business to enquire and what was _not_. At least the irony of the return to her house, her supposed family in this castle, being that much more aggravating than dealing with the two supposedly more difficult houses left her with enough caustic humour to handle it.

Tuesday started with watching a still horribly pained Edie and differently pained Riko try and act right as rain when they visited the hospital wing, rambling about shared elbow _fun._ It also included McGonagall and Snape being their respective worst, bloody Binns whose gruelling soporific goblin-fixated historical generalities she was morally obligated to note down (and to admit to herself that it wouldn’t be a gross overpayment even if Riko doubled the current payment again), and then Bentlings informed her over dinner Professor Sprout requested her presence after.

He was fairly tactful but Vi knew it hadn’t gone unnoticed, knew everyone was feeling vindicated and proud for looking after her. It’d be enough to leave her with raised heckles and looking forward to the next duelling meet any day, even before heading down to the office of her head of house. Afterwards she could hardly look, never mind _think_ straight, could only clench her jaws to not explode. The disappointed looks she got from her housemates – as opposed to what? being grateful at unwanted interference? – didn’t help, but at least they left her alone that way. Still recalled at least that bit from first year, then, hm?

Later, walking up to Astronomy, a back-to-herself Riko took one look at her and stilled, going quiet much the same way Vi realized she had, herself. Well, her snake projected more wary-inquisitive and less ready-to-tear-out-throats-with-her-bare-teeth. Clear potential for the latter, though, and more fluid, not just round the shoulders, which had Vi notice just how tight and tense she was, all but begging for cramps. Taking an even breath had her work to fix that. Riko nodded a cautious greeting that was also satisfaction and promise.

Vi’s spine settled between her shoulders in a way she knew to mean trouble, so she took another breath and nodded back, forcing herself to lower some of her hackles. At least one of them had to be sane and coupling her own _bring-it-on-then_ with Riko’s _well-then-we-burn-it_ would never qualify as anything even close.

“Vi?” was all Riko said after a blink, eyes far too sharp for the dark traces of exhaustion under them, clearly all but ready to knife someone already.

“Eh,” was all Vi could say to that, her jaw still too tight and she knew if she started now it would all come out in far-to-exact-and-verbose, full-volume geysir-fashion.

Instead she shrugged and signed a loose D-E-M-A-I-N, common ogham based even. That way any persistent watchers would maybe leave up for this lesson so that Vi wouldn’t snap and hex their noses off for putting them in places they didn’t belong. The lesson went by so well Sinistra was looking at them suspiciously when they filed out, which was ironic, really. They had simply focussed entirely on the presented distraction. The spikes of temper in her gut looking for outlet suggested making the paranoid, nose-in-the-air theorist regret it but Vi put it aside, for now.

By the time they got to talk properly at last, next afternoon, Vi had already compressed it all enough that she was hardly more irritated than usual. Impatient, too, and on edge, that damn Lupin’s lesson only half an hour away and her having to evade Amy again to talk this through with Riko. But her sister in arms was already waiting and ready to pull her into cover and Vi couldn’t even get herself to scold her for using Obscurantis out here by the greenhouses.

“So Lupin had a word with my head of house,” she started, clipped and controlled, “about me. The worried-about way.”

Surprisingly she still had to clench her teeth after that, and take an even breath to calm down again. Riko had turned into a solid edge beside her, calm and quiet and taking-the-meaning, so Vi dug out her crumpled box of fags and offered one. It let them settle more comfortably and let her wave it away more easily, putting it away as simply as the cardbord box.

“It’s handled, Professor Sprout _is_ a decent sort,” she smiled tightly, grateful though the humour remained grim, with Sprout such an exception. She shrugged. “I used the opportunity to mention a few points, too, so he won’t get to repeat that angle, I don’t think.”

“Well,” Riko started, her tone reasonable and cool, like a knife’s blade, “war it is, then.”

The trigger, Saturday, was obvious enough, and the debt of this fallout probably the only reason Riko added a belated “yeah?”, one that made, while theoretically asking permission, clear Vi would need very good points to stop her. Of which Vi had no intention at all. Shared so companionably, the anger grew warm and almost cozy, a steady glow, good to work with. She ducked her head to adjust her hat but couldn’t take her eyes off Riko’s quiet delight. The smirk turned just the corner of her mouth, just for a second, but what made Vi smile back easy and warm was the steady look. It wasn’t just the reflecitive eyes gleaming in the shadow of that wide hood that let her imagine a sheen of reflected hellfire, tightly leashed, just waiting to be called up.

They had never been such perfect students in Defence, nor in any other lesson, ever, since arriving at Hogwarts, and he rightfully didn’t trust it. At dinner people kept wondering if the elves were baking spice biscuits. With how far they had got with the one little phial of aniseed oil that Riko had shown up with, and the headache-y way Lupin soon left the great hall, Vi was going to call this a success. Petty and cheap, yes, but the point _was_ to answer like with like. She was almost sorry she wouldn’t get to see his face when he got to his quarters. He was the one who had made it personal, who had gone so far past the professional level as to invade her house, _her place_ , with his lunacy, literally, oh, she really would have liked to see his face.

Vi was no slouch at pranks and Riko crazy ruthless, and the result a collection of nasty, layered inconveniences so effective it was a work of viciously mean-spirited art. He certainly looked right ill, heh, at breakfast, enough to add a sharp, knife-bright spring to her steps, after enjoying her own with her friends. The following days were taxing, yes, Edie and Riko still on eggshells around each other and all of them so stretched for sleep, but it was all manageable. Not long til the winter hols, and she could look forward to improvement even before that. The letter came on Sunday, over their early breakfast, and Vi only smiled, slow and warm, when her friends looked at her with big, worried eyes as she read over the coded message.

She went to pick up the package on Monday, right after Charms, and it took her the entire lunch break with all the effort to keep this secret and safe. Her heart was in her throat the entire time she spent under the Glamour, all of ten minutes, tops, and she was done in enough to be shaky and dizzy after, but it worked, and no dementors appeared from the shadows to devour her. She had the Knightley-Selvam. Even with Monday a house-day, even with her unable to properly explain it all, it was only fair that her friends get their dose first, no way she’d take her own before that.

There was no instantaneous effect and it tasted, as the books had said, a little of liquorice and fresh fire. Vi didn’t like flashing her watch so she didn’t check in fixed intervals but she did try and diagnose any changes in herself whenever she wasn’t distracted. Runes didn’t offer itself for that and it wasn’t that long yet. She found herself able to not grind her teeth at Lupin’s existence but that could also stem from her remaining satisfaction at their successful riposte. Their break was relaxed, but that was nothing new. Then, in Flying, Riko laughed.

They’d been fooling around, they usually did, though less over the course of the year, now that she though back. And there Riko was, streaking by and repeating the manoeuvre Madam Hooch had just shown them but upside down, hanging off her broom like a giant tick. Not the absurdest thing they’d ever done, not by a long shot, so the surprise that lingered after her own involuntary snort took a little to clear. Then she realized she had no immediate recollection of Riko laughing like that, easy and carefree, since when exactly? She didn’t know and while that was a shock it came with the steady knowledge of being able to handle it. She wasn’t sure if that was a side-effect, the potential for short bouts of euphoria had been noted, but looked-at rationally it was accurate.

They had a solid supply, after all, and Vi was nothing if not on top of her own matters. Distributing the rest during dinner, only the first dose until payment, went well, with Dumbledore absent. The evening was alright, the various variations of ‘got it out of your system, then’ (Alice, that one) more heartening than grating, and she managed to sleep through the night with no dreams to recall in the morning. Even Megan’s custom of greeting the new day by leaving the windows open until it was time for breakfast couldn’t bother her. The fresh air tasted of actual, proper winter and even with dawn hardly visible through the thick blanket of clouds the world just seemed brighter. Well, that at least had an obvious explanation: the grounds were shimmering with frost, the persistent haze of chilly rain banished at last.

None of her friends were at breakfast, at least not visibly, but Vi didn’t worry. It was a house day and they had probably preferred the kitchen to the Great Hall, it was by now almost standard procedure for Amy and happened often enough for the others, too. She decided to wait for them in the runes corridor on sixth floor, looking forward to comparing notes on the potion’s effect just to start with, but time went by without her friends making an appearance. From the closed miens of the loitering people asking was out, and so she was left with silent, growing worry.

Amy appeared only just before the lesson was to start and hadn’t been to the kitchen (Vi really was going to have a word with her about skipping meals like that) which left them uninformed even past the roll call. Miss Eohyrde and Miss Slyver had taken ill and were in the hospital wing, no further details. The Ravenclaws wore their limited interest absently, like a scarf. The Slytherins, well, did they ever really do anything absently? Riko never said much about the goings-on in her house but Vi was no fool, had family in there, too, and were they watching..?

They didn’t bother with messages or stealth: as soon as Babbling ended the lesson they raced for the hospital wing. Not that Madam Pomfrey took their visit well, tight and pale around her eyes and mouth, her voice clipped and cool. Her awareness also left to be desired, Vi was able to fade herself out of view while Amy argued up a solid front. Behind the screens, Edie was sleeping, like she would usually after a full moon, before that dratted potion made everything worse. Exhausted and sickly pale, yes, ill and faded, but on the mend. Further in, Riko was going to give Vi nightmares.

The dark circles and sunken eyes were so pronounced she looked almost skeletal in the grey, shaded light, calling to mind the unlucky addicts Vi had sometimes seen in passing or, even worse, a corpse, and not a fresh one. The jumbled lay of her limbs, like someone had just spilled her onto the bed and twitched a blanket on top, without looking how either landed, didn’t help. Of course Riko was alive, breath laboured and audibly irregular, and Vi watched a series of twitches go through her friend, watched her turn, fitfully and in jerky movements, this way and that.

The entire scene was chilling, a cold slap from a reality that literally lacked all colour, Riko all pale and grey shades against the pale blue of the bed, against the darker blue of her shirt. The shifting visual, depending on how you looked, should have been surreal but Vi knew Riko, which was worse. As if the rest of her insane twin’s state wasn’t bad enough already, Circe’s circle, what had she been doing to herself, and how long?

“ _Miss_ Drake,” Madam Pomfrey’s tone made her spin round, jerked Vi away from where she’d meant to draw up the blanket, Riko was shivering, and check on her and possibly shake her awake (both to keep her from bad dreams and demand answers).

“What’s wrong with her,” Vi bit out, realizing only then her lack of manners, but then deciding not to care.

Also realizing belatedly her dip into quicktime, and then how the mediwitch appeared less wary now, as if she’d suspected.. and only then Vi made the connection. But the Knightley-Selvam wouldn’t.. Vi _had_ gone over the ingredients, that couldn’t be the cause.. could it?

“That girl,” Madam Pomfrey not-answered, grim and tired and already leading Vi back to the front.

They met Amy coming their way, already at Edie’s side, and Madam Pomfrey just tsk-ed and kept rambling about irresponsible children and unsanctioned use of unknown potions. Then she promptly threw them out with orders not to show up again before dinner, at the earliest.

“Library,” Amy declared, after a moment of resounding silence had followed the doors closing with a pointed, final click behind them.

Vi let her set the course, aware of the attached practicalities but not ready to really note them, still stuck with that image and all it drew after it. This detachment didn’t let up, not after Amy stopped her from digging up the relevant books again (a bad idea, yes, every murder mystery said so, but still..), not after Amy flattened her by pointing out nobody else had fallen ill (without saying how she’d known there’d be others), not even after the resolute ‘correlation does not equal causation’, which her friend stressed again as they parted with a fierce whisper of “Correlation, Vi!”

Transfigs was conclusively dreadful, with Vi cycling through every little detail while mechanically taking notes, and the practical part too bad to speak of. She sat alone during lunch, which made it more bearable and worse at the same time. Vi had never been so scared for her friend, a disturbing realization given their history. Not even back in first year she’d felt so helpless, so guilty. Nor at the same time so angry. Riko had always tended towards wiry, like Vi herself, but recalling the weak, uncoordinated movement of those absurdly thin limbs.. Circe’s bloody circle! It made her wonder when she’d last seen her friend without at least a handful layers on, yes. But it made her wonder, too, if Riko would have even _let_ her see, made her want to shake that nutter while still berating herself for not noticing. She of all people should have, she always had!

Back when they’d all still been figuring each other out, Vi had noted how their Slytherin was, even at rest, a mix of contrasts. When she wasn’t busy or distracted, Riko really liked to doze, so much and so very like that pet kneazle of Aunt Camilla’s it was right comical. Opposed to that was the real, actual sleep, and that was as different to her relaxed, sunny dozing – and day-personality – as her only occasionally visible edges. Because Riko asleep was a coiled spring, was still and silent, and carried a distant focus that had always reminded Vi of a sheathed knife.

Of course by the time she’d got to see Riko really sleep she’d already adopted her back, had simply filed it away as another piece of context to be aware of but not poke at. Not least because, beside proving the wary and serious bones that carried the muscles of her friend’s cheerful nature, when she was out like that a forlorn cast crept to her features, one that gave Vi the urge to protect, reminded her how slight and small her adopted younger twin was. And here Riko was, looking like _that_ , breathing audible, clearly not in control of her limbs, her sleep, _or_ her shadows.

Vi had only seen a pale precursor of that at the end of last year, the day before Riko’s spectacular breakdown. Afterwards, over the rest of the end of the year, she’d made sure to discretely poke or nudge her friend when she grew too quiet in her dozing, and not just for Nott being along. Vi knew about bad sleep. And though she’d never managed to actually, hah, _grasp_ it, she had a rough idea of Riko’s training and use of shadows, enough to know this had to be bad. Not that there was a thing she could do, about any of it, no matter how often she circled through it all.

Potions was a repeat of Transfigs with different window dressing and a lingering, permeating tension right up until Snape kept her back after the lesson. It suprised her in the way of an expected yet jarring hit, like the realization that Amy didn’t even know yet, not really, hadn’t _seen_ it, and the following, dreadful option of not telling her. But by then the classroom was empty and Vi slid back to the present. The practical part of her, the one that kept track and managed the bend and flex of the steel in her spine, was not surprised, was ready to keep on handling whatever came at her. And to make sure she not look him in the eyes, no matter what.


End file.
